Birthday drabbles
by you-make-me-wander
Summary: A series of drabbles for some of my followers' birthdays. Mostly Stydia but ships can vary depending on request. Ship, rating and summary are in each chapter.
1. Drabble 1 - Stydia

**A/N: Hey guys!**

 **This is a series that'll be a work in progress. For those of you who don't know, I have a Birthday Page on tumblr. Whoever joins can request a drabble for their birthday with a ship and a sentence starter of their choosing and the ones I'll be writing will be posted here for everyone to read. It'll be mostly Stydia, but I already have requests for three other ships. Each part will have a different setting, so the summary will let you know what each part is about.**

 **In case you want to join my birthday list, go to my tumblr (you-make-me-wander) and you'll find my "Birthday page" on the menu on the left. There you'll find a link with the instructions and all the perks. Please read the whole post and make sure to do everything it says so that I can add you to my page.**

 **Enjoy :)**

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 **Drabble #1 - "Looks like we'll be trapped in here for a while…"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : K

 **Summary** : Stiles is a thief and Lydia is an FBI agent. Not knowing that another gang is robbing the art gallery that Stiles intends on breaking in, both Stiles and Lydia end up tied up in a room together.

 **Dedication** : For the lovely Vicky, kuulei-nuggets on tumblr. Everyone go check her Stydia fan art, I'm in love with it!

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"Looks like we'll be trapped in here for a while…"

She's gonna kill him. She's positive, absolutely sure, 100% certain that as soon as she can get her hands free, she's gonna kill him. And then arrest him.

"Oh really?" she asks rhetorically, her tone exasperated. It's been, she's guessing, almost two hours of captivity already. "I'd never thought."

He just looks at her sheepishly but it doesn't go completely unnoticed to her how he keeps bouncing one of his legs agitatedly. "Yes, I'm dead serious. We are really gonna be here for a while. It's a fact. They're not letting us go anytime soon, and it's…"

He continues rambling and Lydia huffs in annoyance, trying to free her wrists by pulling at her restraints again. It does nothing. "Then you'd better shut your mouth because I'm fed up with you already," she mutters, giving him the stink eye.

His mouth pops open as he glares at her in disbelief. "Why are you looking at me like this is my fault?"

If it weren't because of him, Lydia would have never left her house today. It was her day off, the office didn't need her and if she weren't so damn obsessed in finding the "Void thief" as people have been calling him – _him_ , the guy sitting beside her, tied to a chair much like her not even three feet away –, she'd have never been caught in this situation.

She'd followed one of her leads by herself with no backup whatsoever. Her bosses didn't trust her theory and Lydia had been so determined to prove them wrong that she decided to do a little investigation on her own. Turns out that she was right, and that's why she was finally able to catch the mysterious Stilinski robbing an old art gallery. Or well, at least that's what they intended to do.

In the last few months she's learned how incredibly sneaky he is, how smart, how much of a mastermind really, and it all started about a year ago, when suddenly all anyone could hear on the news was how this Void guy kept robbing some of the most iconic buildings in town by himself without leaving much of a trace behind. One of the FBI's most solid, concrete lead was a very low quality picture of him in profile. Lydia is only sure that the guy beside her is him because she's spent countless hours studying the damn picture. For research, of course.

Some of her contacts had tipped her off about possible new locations for the next robbery, and that combined with all of her obsessive investigation on the guy on the last few months led her to this very building tonight. And she was right. What neither of them was expecting was that another group was also trying to rob that same art gallery and in the same night, thus why both of them are now tied up in chairs in one of the back rooms as dozens of paintings are being stolen. It's not like he could have guessed this, but whatever. Lydia is blaming this on him.

He keeps bouncing his leg more rapidly as time passes and Lydia groans loudly. "Would you stop that? It's driving me crazy."

He follows her gaze and looks down, ceasing the movement immediately. "Sorry. Bad habit."

"What, are you nervous?"

He worries his lower lip, trying again to free himself as well. "Of course I am. I don't stand a chance now."

"Of…?" she asks curiously, dying to find out more about him. She has finally caught up with him after so long, she's not letting him go anywhere without learning everything she can.

"Of getting out of here, what do you think?" he snaps, obviously frustrated. "It's you, you know?"

And that's how it starts. The way he says it makes Lydia's heart fill with pride at being recognized to be a good agent like that and Stiles, of course, notices it. He then, nervously, proceeds to explain why he does this, rob what he can every once in a while, fascinating her with how passionately he goes on a rant that she's almost sure lasts a good hour and a half about how his dad got severely injured a while back and the bills for his treatments just keep on coming, and how he's all alone in this and he didn't know what else to do. How his mother passed away when he was eight and his dad decided to leave their hometown, which turned him into a very shy, anxious, socially awkward kid who has a hard time making friends. How his job and his income barely covers a quarter of what he needs to help out his dad and how all he wants to do is help.

Before she knows it, Lydia finds herself staring at him, and after a few moments of strangely comfortable silence, she's the one telling him how she hates that no one listens to her because she's too young for her position, how her bosses disregard her theories because most of them are misogynistic pigs who won't let her have a say in anything. How Stiles, in all honesty, has been the most exciting occurrence in her life in the last year, allowing her to show off her skills and putting them to good use. They end up having a far more insightful conversation than they could have ever imagined.

"Well, you did catch me," he offers, unsure of why he'd even been consoling the one who'll be putting him away.

"Not technically," she frowns. "We're still stuck here."

He looks around as he can and scans the small room, alert. "Are you hearing anything?"

They'd been so distracted with each other that they had almost forgot other people were there with them. "No. I don't think I've heard a sound for a while, actually."

Stiles considers doing it because he knows he can. He's done it a few times before. And in reality, it might be his only chance to be able to get away from this in the end. "Can you free your hands?" he asks, studying her.

Lydia shakes her head. "No, the knot is too tight."

"Okay, I think there's something I can do to free myself but I'll make some noise. Do you think they'll hear?"

She replies honestly, assessing their options. "I don't know. They might have already left, but they might be just behind that door or somewhere else in the building, so I don't know. What are you gonna do?"

He teases her out of nervousness. "Are you scared I'll leave you behind?"

She scoffs. "No. Just curious." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Someone would find me eventually, you know? I don't need your help."

He grins. "I'll just leave you, then. Alright." She watches him carefully as he grounds himself properly, shifting all of his weight onto his feet and getting up from the wood chair, elevating it from the floor as he does so, then jumping and falling behind, breaking it. All he has to do then is untie the rope from his wrists, rubbing them softly as he waits to hear some movement from the hallway. There's nothing. He turns to her. "So, need a hand?"

"What do you get out of this?" she asks bluntly.

"Of untying you?" She nods. "Nothing. It's the right thing to do, okay? But I can always just leave you here and…"

"Just untie me already, Stilinski!"

He freezes. He wasn't aware that she knew his name. "H- How did you…?"

"I may not know a lot of things about you, but that's one of the few I'm aware of. What kind of name is Stiles, anyway?"

He doesn't move for a moment in pure shock, but soon he's swallowing dryly and making his way to stand behind her and get rid of the rope that's around her wrists. He did know she was smart, he shouldn't be surprised. "I thought you didn't know that," he murmurs. "But I guess it makes sense that you'd want to know the name of the man you're trying to catch, I guess." He lets her stand and soothe the pain on her skin as she gently massages her wrists before extending his arms in her direction, giving in. "And by the way, it's a nickname."

He's so much taller than her that he could easily take her, but instead he's just surrendering. It surprises both of them when she doesn't take the opportunity. "What does the M stand for?"

"What?" _How does she know that?_

"The M? _M. Stilinski_? I can't find it anywhere."

Stiles grins again despite himself. At least there's one thing he was able to keep a secret from her. "Wouldn't you like to know…"

She can't help the way her lips turn up at the corners, and she has to turn around to hide it from him. His playful tone caught her off guard. "I would, actually. But I'd also like to get out of here, so that can wait." She faces him again when she's sure her facial expression won't betray her. She's so not falling for him. "Are you up for a little compromise?"

He smirks. _He smirks, goddammit_! She most certainly did not just squeeze her thighs together because of that. "Only if it ends up in marriage," he says smugly, earning a playful roll of eyes from her. Stiles still notices the way her cheeks turn pink almost immediately.

"Do you want to get out of here or not?"

It takes them another hour to escape a building where they've been alone for a while, all the other robbers long gone. Stiles and Lydia had been locked up, the door barred and it took both of their geniuses, banter and one too many ideas thrown in the air until they came up with a solution. In the end, they find themselves in the dead of night standing awkwardly on the badly lit alley behind the building for a few moments too long, both debating with themselves on what to do next.

Impressively, Lydia is the first to move, taking a step back and away from him. When he looks at her in confusion, Lydia shrugs her shoulders. "You helped me. You didn't have to do that." Another step back. "Just promise me you'll at least try and find out another way of helping your dad or I might just have to arrest you next time."

Stiles has a snarky remark for that, but instead he just nods, grateful. "I promise."

She gives him a small smile and takes a few more steps back, eventually turning around to leave. Lydia tries her best to ignore the way she feels emptier with every step she takes away from him.

"And Martin?" he shouts from behind her, making her look over her shoulder. She wasn't aware he knew her name either. "Thank you."

She doesn't hear of him again for months until one late afternoon when she's about to leave her office to go home, in a mood and completely exhausted after a big case they'd closed that week, flowers are delivered to her, a little card hidden in the bouquet.

 _Heard about your promotion. I'm glad to know they're finally listening to you. And I also thought you'd like to know I've been staying out of trouble. Got a second job, so we're managing. It's a shame, though. I was looking forward to seeing you again. Maybe if you find me, you could come visit?_

It's signed with only one word that starts with M. She's eager to go to work the next morning.

 **A/N: Please review :)**


	2. Drabble 2 - Stydia

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's the 2nd drabble for the Birthday drabble series.**

 **You can check out my Birthday Page on tumblr. I'm you-make-me-wander over there. The link is on my sidebar.**

 **Enjoy :)**

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 **Drabble #2 - "I might have had a few shots…"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : K

 **Summary** : Lydia gets wasted and Stiles picks her up from the bar. Completely drunk, Lydia confesses her feelings for Stiles only to forget about it the next morning. Lucky for them, Lydia is smart enough to ensure that she'll remember.

 **Dedication** : For the lovely Ashley, stydia-martiniski on tumblr. Everyone go check out her blog and wish her happy birthday :)

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"I might have had a few shots…"

She spent the entire ride pretending as if she isn't drunk of her ass while Stiles had been quiet about it, keeping his opinion to himself. Now, at her front door, she admits she's wasted. He can only stare at Lydia blankly for a solid minute before helping her inside her house, one of his arms sliding around her waist while he uses the other to pull one of her arms around his shoulders for support. Natalie opens the door for them, a look anything but amused on the woman's features at her daughter's behavior at four in the morning, a more compassionate one offered to Stiles for putting up with Lydia in such a situation.

"Oh really?" Stiles asks, utterly mad at Lydia for letting herself get to this state of inebriation and all on her own, no less. He raises his eyebrows in disbelief as Natalie closes the front door after murmuring apologies to a few neighbors, sarcasm making its way to his tone when he continues. "You can barely stand, I had to pick you up from the bar, and you were loud enough that you woke up your neighbors and your mom…" He glances over his shoulder at Natalie as the woman waits for Stiles to walk Lydia to the couch. "I'd never guess."

Lydia doesn't notice her mom standing behind Stiles nor his ironic tone; she's too wasted. She proceeds to free herself from his grasp to fall onto the couch dramatically - certainly not lady-like - but soon Stiles is near her again, and even as drunk as she is Lydia still notices how warm he always feels when he touches her. She wishes he'd do it more often.

Stiles struggles to pull her up into a seating position so that he can at least take her jacket off while Natalie walks to the kitchen to bring her daughter a glass of water, and it takes all that the woman has no to let it slip from her hands and onto the floor when she returns to the living room just in time to hear her daughter mutter the words everyone has been patiently waiting for her to say out loud, and that Lydia hadn't dared to yet.

"You're so weird, Stiles," Lydia mumbles, her speech slurred because her tongue is too dry. Stiles only scoffs at that, pulling at one of her sleeves. "But I love you."

Lydia doesn't seem to want to take her confession back after she says it, but her words still Stiles in a way many things haven't been able to in a while, and Natalie inhales sharply. Stiles can hear her intake of breath even though she's standing by the kitchen door, a few feet away from the pair.

It takes him a few seconds to respond and Lydia stares at him confused, like she was expecting more of a reaction from him at the proclamation of her love. He chooses to ignore it, continuing to tug at one of the sleeves and successfully taking it off. "You… You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do," she argues almost immediately, pouting. _Didn't he like her?_ "Stiles, I love you."

Stiles can feel her eyes boring into the side of his skull. "Lydia, you're drunk!" he tells her offhandedly, glancing at Natalie for help in evident distress.

It takes the woman a moment to recompose from the shock of hearing her daughter finally admitting the obvious, even if in a drunken state. "Lydia, maybe this is a conversation for some other time," Natalie tries, approaching them and helping Stiles get rid of Lydia's jacket for good.

Lydia frowns, only now realizing that her mother is there. It doesn't stop her. She stirs on her seat to face the boy fully. "No. Stiles, why aren't you listening?" He narrows his eyes at her but doesn't say anything, fixing a few pillows for her while Natalie folds Lydia's jacket and places it on one of the armchairs. "Stiles, come here," Lydia whispers enticingly, grabbing his wrist to catch his attention. Like she didn't have it already.

He uses it to his advantage, grabbing her own wrist and gently pushing her down onto the couch, trying his best to pretend that this isn't affecting him at all while Natalie goes grab something to cover her daughter up. "Okay, so why don't you get some rest and clear that head of yours, uh?"

Lydia doesn't like the soft tone of his voice, not when she's trying to get across a message that he's clearly not receiving. It's making her more obstinate. "But Stiles, you need to know. I have to tell you that-"

He cuts her off, taking the blanket from Natalie and pulling it over the strawberry blonde girl. They both tuck her in. "Okay, all ready for sleep." He does his best to sound cheerful, or in the very least amused with the situation, but the way he glances at Lydia's mom lets the woman know that he's scared of whatever will come from her daughter's mouth next. "I'd better go before…" _Before she says something else she'll regret in the morning_ , he wants to say.

Natalie nods and places a hand on the boy's shoulder, squeezing lightly in understanding but Lydia is not having it. She sits back up again. "No. No, you can't leave. Stiles, please don't leave. Not before I tell you. You need to know that I-"

He stops her again, ignoring the way her green eyes almost look pleading at his brown ones. "You can tell me all that tomorrow, okay?" He only suggests it because he's sure she'll never remember this in the morning, drunk as she seems to be. "I really should go, it's late. Or well, early. So hmm, sleep tight."

He kisses the top of her head and ignores her pout, quickly making his way to the front door followed by Natalie. The woman hushes the words trying to comfort him. "I'm sorry, honey. Maybe _she will_ remember it in the morning and you'll both sort your things out..." She offers him a smile, but this time he can't hide his disappointment. Lydia finally admits she does have feelings for him and she's drunk. _Great_. He's never even gonna know if she means it. Stiles looks so hurt for a second that Natalie ends up giving him a quick hug before opening the door to let him out.

"WAIT!" Lydia yells from the couch, waving something in her hand that the other two can't quite make in the dim light. "You don't believe me, do you Stiles? Is that it?"

He takes a step back involuntarily. Honestly, her resolve is scaring him and he really should just leave before something else happens. "Lydia, I told you. We'll just talk about it-"

She interrupts him this time around, smirking in a way that makes him wary. "No. I'll prove it to you." Lydia struggles to free herself from the blanket and get up on her feet, a head rush making her stop after taking only two steps in his direction and supporting herself on the back of the couch. She straightens up fairly quickly, determined and on a mission, and only when she lowers her gaze does Stiles realize that she has her phone in her hands. "I'll prove it to you," she all but hums.

"What are you d-"

He doesn't get to finish the question, and is horrified when he realizes what she intends to do. Lydia brings her phone up so that it's in front of her face. "If you don't believe me, I'll just record it. Make it permanent."

She shrugs her shoulders like it's no big deal and Stiles takes a step forward immediately, ready to stop her, but Natalie places a hand on his chest, making the boy come to halt. "Maybe it's for the best," she murmurs to him, the way his breath hitches not going unnoticed.

Stiles can't decide if he wants Lydia to have the tact to remember to actually press _record_ or not. This is seriously too much to handle at four in the morning. "Lydia…"

Lydia seems unfazed by his anxious tone and starts talking to the device. "My name is Lydia Martin and I'm in love with Stiles Stilinski. I'm utterly, irrevocably, undeniably in love with the lanky, spastic, loquacious, ridiculously good-hearted, caring, smart, driven, sarcastic young boy that came into my life when I didn't even know that I needed him. And I needed him, I still do. And however drunk I am is not gonna change that. I can only hope I'm fortunate enough to learn that he feels the same way about me."

With that, she taps a finger on her phone and lowers it, feeling exposed – but certainly not intimidated - at the way Stiles is looking back at her, mouth agape. "Lydia…" he mutters again without knowing what more to say, because really, what's he gonna say to _that_?

She waves a hand at him and offers him a devious smile, already making her way back to the couch. "You can go now, we'll discuss this later."

He's about to ask Lydia if she's kidding, if this is a joke to her, but Natalie sees right through him and quickly places her hands on the boy's shoulders, gently pushing him through the threshold and out of the house. Stiles turns back to face her, disconcerted. "She- She just…"

"I know. But why don't you go get some sleep and we'll deal with this in the morning?" He doubts he'll sleep a wink after this but he still nods, taking a deep breath. "Thank you for bringing her home, Stiles."

"Of course. Good night, Mrs. Martin." He heads to his Jeep to leave, stopping midway to turn back around to ask for something he knows he's not getting. "Is there any chance you'd snatch Lydia's phone away from her and erase that video before she sees it?" he asks sheepishly, desperately, because the last thing he'd want would be to lose Lydia as a friend.

Natalie shakes her head but gives in to a small chuckle before smiling at him. "Good night, Stiles."

He can barely bring himself to breathe properly on the ride home.

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Lydia wakes up to a throbbing headache and her stomach twisting and twirling in a way she hasn't felt in quite a while, and it takes her several minutes to even grasp the concept of getting up from the couch, let alone actually try to do it. But then someone – her mom, she guesses – is doing so much noise in the kitchen that it seems they're about to start a revolution and so Lydia, ever so cautiously, gets up.

Her mom is already doing the dishes and that strikes Lydia as odd, but then again she's not sure for how long she slept. "What time is it?"

Natalie jumps slightly at Lydia's sudden appearance and turns around to face her daughter, a small – but still there – smirk making Lydia feel uneasy. "Just past 12:30. I figured you wouldn't be able to hold anything down for a while, so I helped myself and had lunch already."

Lydia blushes, embarrassed. It's not like her mom doesn't know that Lydia parties hard, but it has been a while since it happened last. "About that…"

Natalie dries her hands and crosses her arms in front of her chest, leaning against one of the counters to stare at Lydia. "Yes, about that…"

"I'm sorry I got drunk last night. I don't even remember how much I drank but if my headache is any indication, it was a lot. I was just… Trying to clear my head. There has been so much going on and with graduation getting closer, I just- I just wanted a little time for me." _I just wanted to forget everything for a night_ , she wants to say.

"You should have taken your friends with you, Lydia," her mom scolds. "Something could have happened to you."

"We don't usually hang out like that," she replies. Where would the pack even find the time to go to a club and get wasted? And why would she take them? The werewolves can't get drunk, Malia is incapable of having a good time and Kira would probably not even drink anything. But her mom probably wouldn't understand that. And then Stiles… Why does she vaguely remember Stiles from last night?

"Then maybe next time you should drink at home, where you're safe. If it hadn't been for Stiles, I don't know how you'd have gotten home last night."

Lydia stares at her mother in surprise. "Stiles brought me home? H- How?" She hadn't talked to Stiles all Saturday, to her recollection. And no one from the pack had known Lydia was gonna go out; if they had, they would have probably tried to stop her.

Natalie has to push her buttons, otherwise Lydia and Stiles are never not gonna get anywhere. This is such a good opportunity, she can't let it pass up. "You texted him saying that you needed him to pick you up. So he did, and he brought you home safe."

"Oh." Lydia doesn't remember that, but then again she doesn't remember half of what went down just a few hours earlier. She does remember starting to drink more because of _him_ , because of _them_ though. After that, her memories are blurry. Things have been strained between them ever since he broke up with Malia almost three months ago and she doesn't know how to fix something she doesn't know how it got broken. Lydia's blaming this on him, but of course she can't tell her mom that. "I'll call him to thank him."

She searches her jeans for her phone but there's nothing, and so she turns around to find it on the coffee table back in the living room. When she starts making her way to pick it up, Natalie stops her. "While you're on it, maybe you should tell him how you feel."

Her mom's words could have meant anything, literally anything, but her tone – so soft, hopeful even – has Lydia freezing on the spot, looking down at her feet that suddenly seem so interesting that Lydia could write a poem about them.

"You said something to him. Do you remember that?" Lydia stays silent, so Natalie continues. "You said something to him last night and it'll change things, Lydia. He's so nervous about it that he's called me twice and texted me five times this morning already, just to make sure that you don't see _it_."

At that, Lydia looks over her shoulder at her mom, brows furrowing in confusion. "See _what_?"

Natalie walks past Lydia to grab her daughter's phone and hands it to her but not before sharing a piece of her mind with Lydia, who's not sure she'll want to hear what her mother has to say. "You kept telling him that… Maybe you should see for yourself first. But just know that he tried to stop you and you still did it. And he's been trying to reach out to me all morning to make sure you have an out."

The words come out faintly. "An out?"

Natalie just looks down at the phone. "You might want to check your videos, honey."

Lydia complies slowly, and doesn't even need to do anything but to unlock the screen; the video is right there. She hesitates for a second before playing it, apprehensive of what she's gonna find. The words echo in the silence that sets itself between both redheads.

" _My name is Lydia Martin and I'm in love with Stiles Stilinski. I'm utterly, irrevocably, undeniably in love with the lanky, spastic, loquacious, ridiculously good-hearted, caring, smart, driven, sarcastic young boy that came into my life when I didn't even know that I needed him. And I needed him, I still do. And however drunk I am is not gonna change that. I can only hope I'm fortunate enough to learn that he feels the same way about me."_

Lydia plays the video three more times as if watching it again will change anything that's in it. When she's finished, she looks up at her mom, completely lost. Her eyes water without her consent. "I was drunk," she says defensively.

"You still meant it."

She dismisses it. "And me and Jordan, we…"

Natalie's tone is more shocked than anything. "Lydia!"

"No. I…" She puts her phone away like it's burning, weighing on her. "I can't let _this_ ruin- Stiles is my friend. He's one of the few good, steady things I have in my life. I can't lose him…"

Her hands start shaking of their own accord and Natalie holds them in hers. "This doesn't have to be a bad th-"

Lydia feels a tear roll down her cheek and can't help the small sob that escapes her lips. "You d- You don't understand…" Lydia wishes she did.

Natalie wipes the tear away and smiles softly. "You know I'm not one to pry on your life, Lydia, but what are you even doing with Deputy Parrish?"

"Mom…"

"I don't care that you're eighteen, Lydia. You're still considered a minor until you graduate and you know that, no matter how mature you are."

Lydia worries her lower lip and looks at the ground, embarrassed. "I do know that… Me and Stiles, we are not- We keep arguing and bickering and something's wrong between us and I don't know how to fix it. And Jordan and I, it's just innocent flirting, okay? And he's been there for me lately and he listens and… And I just-"

"You've been lonely," Natalie whispers. Lydia nods slowly and lets herself be wrapped by her mother's arms, taking a few deep breaths and quieting her sobs not to make her headache worse. "I'm sorry, sweetie." Natalie runs a hand through Lydia's hair and kisses her forehead. "I'm gonna ask you something and I want you to give me an honest answer, okay?"

Lydia nods again, feeling her mouth go dry instantly, her heart pounding in her chest. "Okay."

"You getting closer to Deputy Parrish, does that have anything to do with Stiles and Malia? With Stiles being less available for you?"

Lydia purses her lips and nods almost imperceptibly. "Maybe."

"But they're broken up now, aren't they?"

"Yeah. They have been for a few months now."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Lydia's answer is barely a hum. "I don't know."

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Stiles has been a nerve wreck. Natalie spent most of her Sunday answering his texts and telling him that things will run their course, but she never disclosed to him whether Lydia saw the video or not. He hasn't heard anything from Lydia for the rest of the weekend.

He figures that either a) she never saw the video, choosing to delete it before even watching it, or b) she did see it and is pretending she didn't, which is why he decides on going to school early on Monday. That way he can get everything he wants from his locker before most of the students (and Lydia) get there and go hide somewhere where he won't be found by anyone (specially Lydia) until he has to go to class. If he doesn't get caught until 1st period, it'll buy him some time to figure out what the hell he's gonna do.

He shouldn't have to do anything. He didn't make a video professing his love for her, she did. But he can't lose her, he can't even entertain the thought of not having Lydia Martin in his life, and so he drags his feet lazily as he makes way to his locker, his mind anywhere but with him.

He opens it unhurriedly, and just when he's about to put some books into his backpack he stills completely, all breath knocked out of him when he hears his name murmured behind him in a voice he'd recognize anywhere. "Stiles."

He looks over his shoulder to find Lydia standing behind him, not two feet away and dressed in one of the simplest outfits he's ever seen her in; shorts and a long shirt, flats to complement, her auburn hair falling in soft waves. She barely has make-up on. "Hey." He lets it out casually, hoping she won't notice his edginess. "What are you doing here so early?" he asks, turning back around to face his locker again.

Lydia sees the wariness in his eyes, how anxious he is in the way his muscles tense. "I could ask you the same thing."

He shoves a few books into his backpack distractedly, not really paying attention to what he's doing. "Oh, I uh… I just wanted to make sure that I didn't get here late. Traffic is crazy in the morning and…"

"You were trying to avoid me." He ignores this. "I figured you'd be here early, so I came too." He pretends he's not even listening to her, but she notices the blush that creeps up to his cheeks. She places a hand on his wrist and Stiles lets his backpack fall to the ground, jolted by her touch. "Stiles?" He looks down at her hand in surprise, then at his books all over the floor. When he starts getting down to pick them up, she stops him by slipping her hand down his wrist, her fingers touching his almost shyly. "Stiles?"

They stay in silence for a minute just looking at the other. There are dark bags under her eyes, he notices, like she hasn't slept a bit. Her lip is trembling. "You watched it." It's not a question, but Lydia still nods in confirmation. "Okay, then lets just pretend you didn't and it's all good. I'll forget about it if you do too."

Lydia furrows her brows in confusion at his reaction but Stiles doesn't see, already down on his heels to pick his belongings from the floor and shoving them into his backpack unceremoniously. "No. Stiles, we need to talk about this."

Stiles gets up and doesn't look at her, instead choosing to slam his locker shut. "We really don't. You were drunk, Lydia. I get it." He puts on his backpack and glances at her briefly. "Everything's okay, alright?" He waves awkwardly at her, taking a step back. "See you at lunch?"

She shakes her head negatively but Stiles chooses to ignore it, turning around to leave. He's already a few feet away when she brings herself to speak. "I don't need an out."

Her words echo through the empty hallway and make him stop. _Seriously, what's she not getting?_ He wonders if she's willing to compromise their friendship. He isn't. Stiles looks at her over his shoulder again. "I'm giving it to you, Lydia. You should take it."

Lydia had talked about everything with her mom the day before. She told the older woman all about how she met Stiles, how they became friends, how they came to be close. They talked about her father, Jackson, Allison, Aiden, Malia and everything in between. Her mother listened attentively, only commenting when necessary. In the end, she asked Lydia what she was gonna do about it. All sleep was lost that night because of it but at least Lydia came to a conclusion. Stiles is about to take another step away from her when Lydia speaks her mind. "I don't want to."

Her reply sounds genuine to him, resolute, and so he turns around to face her ever so slowly, cautious, afraid that if he does it any faster he'll shatter. Or rather, his heart. "Lydia…"

"My name is Lydia Martin…" Stiles tenses as he hears her words once more, this time spoken directly to him instead of her phone, and he has to refrain from taking a step back when she steps forward to meet him. Lydia doesn't even flail, determined. "My name is Lydia Martin and I'm in love with you. I'm utterly, irrevocably, undeniably in love with the lanky, spastic, loquacious, ridiculously good-hearted, caring, smart, driven, sarcastic young boy that came into my life when I didn't even know that I needed him. And I needed you, Stiles, and I still do. And nothing is not gonna change that. I can only hope I'm fortunate enough to learn that you feel the same way about me."

She stops right in front of him, breathless she doesn't even know why. Stiles can only stare, studying her, trying to ask her silently if she's telling the truth. Words don't come out of his mouth but she seems to get his question, but then again they were always good at communicating with just one look. She nods timidly, giving him half a smile that turns into a full grin when he smiles back at her the same way. Against all odds – and really, Lydia should be used to it by now, to Stiles not doing what she thinks he'll do, ever - he pulls her into a hug, holding her as close as he possibly can. "Does this mean we're not bickering anymore? Because I hate it."

It alleviates the tension and Lydia finds herself letting out a chuckle against his chest. "Of course we are. Just not as viciously. Or as awkwardly." She looks up to find him already staring down at her, eyes brimming with emotion. She's sure hers are the same way.

He licks his lips. "I have things to say."

She smirks. "Of course you do."

"First, you're never, ever getting that drunk without me again. Or at least without someone from the pack. Lydia, it was irresponsible. It took me half an hour to find you…"

He tucks her hair behind her ears softly, cradling her cheeks right after. Lydia's hands roam his chest up to his neck. "I'm sorry."

He pulls her the tiniest but closer and whispers to her lips. "You scared me."

"It won't happen again. I promise." Lydia pulls him a little closer as well. "And thank you for picking me up."

"Always." They are standing as close as they can be without having their lips touching, breathing the other's air. "Okay second, how can you come up with such a speech while you're drunk of your ass and not stutter once? It's impressive." She chuckles and Stiles swears on his life that her lips brush his swiftly.

"I'm smart, haven't you heard?"

He laughs. "Oh, I'm well aware of that."

"And I've got the speech memorized now," she adds playfully.

"Yeah, I noticed." He caresses her cheeks and they stay silent for a little while longer. "Do you really mean it?"

She doesn't even let a second go by before answering him "Yes" and there's a sense of resolve to it. Everything he needs to know about how she feels about him is in her eyes, staring right back at him. "Malia?" she asks just to make sure.

"Done. Parrish?"

Lydia smiles softly. "He's not you."

It's all he needs to crash his lips on hers.

 **A/N: Please review :)**


	3. Drabble 3 - Stydia

**A/N: Here's an actual drabble (1k words! Nailed it this time!) for** **Ness** **, -thewalkingwolf on Wattpad. Her birthday was yesterday and I was having trouble with my internet conectivity again, so last night I ended up only posting it on Wattpad so that she could read it.**

 **I had five different ways I could have written this drabble, from pure angst to hurt/comfort to humor/fluff but I had little time to work on it and I was unsure of which version to write and from whose perspective.** **This is what came out.**

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 **Drabble #3 - "Just relax, I'll wash your hair for you."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : Lydia panics about her hair after coming home from battlefield.

 **Dedication** : For Ness, -thewalkingwolf on Wattpad.

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" _Lydia, just relax. I'll wash your hair for you._ "

It took him nearly an hour to get Lydia to agree with him, but upon further thinking Stiles understands.

They're both sitting on her bathtub, Stiles slowly massaging her head as he applies her shampoo with so much care it would seem he'd done it a thousand times before.

They don't talk for a while.

They came from their last battle, the one where everything bad had finally ended, and they're battered, scarred, emotionally exhausted. But Lydia's main concern is her hair. And why? Because her left hand was broken during the fight, and when Stiles drives Lydia home from the hospital it settles in her that she won't be able to do a few things by herself.

She's still feeling strange, like things are still not over yet, not really, and she's just so tired and cranky and still so frightened that by the time Stiles drops her off, she gets too anxious. Stiles offers to stay for the night and she gladly accepts it, but when they move upstairs to her bedroom and Lydia sees the mess her hair is, a few knots here and there, blood and dirt on it, an utter disarray, she almost starts crying.

It takes some convincing from Stiles but he gets it. Her beautiful hair, strawberry blonde locks that now - dare he say - look plain dirty, is one of the only things Lydia has always had under control over the years. And now with her hand hurt, she feels like she might lose it for the first time since their last battle. She doesn't want that and neither does Stiles, so he helps.

When Stiles moves to get the water running, Lydia doesn't even hesitate to getting undressed unceremoniously in front of him. She's tired of pretending, tired of not fighting for him and not choosing him before he gets snatched by someone else again. She's just so tired of it all.

Stiles understands that too. He had saved her from Eichen almost two months ago and since then they'd been inseparable. They could only stand so much suffering. Both single for the first time in a while, they've been trying to navigate their emotions. It hasn't been particularly easy but most things come natural to them, especially when unspoken.

He helps her undress without a second thought as well, not even caring that Lydia Martin is stark naked in front of him for the second time in his life because the only things he can focus on are the blood that still stains her face and arms, and the bruises pretty much all over. It sickens him.

He gets down on his knees beside the tub, instructing a dull Lydia to keep her hurt hand away from the water and to just sit quietly, that he'll try his best to leave her hair perfect as always.

He sees the way she relaxes a bit, but worry is still in her eyes when she turns to look at him, pleading. He knows she's still scared for what she feels will come next. He cups her cheeks, offering her a small smile. "Hey, we'll be okay, alright? It's over." His thumbs move lazily across her cheekbones. "It's finally over."

She stares at him for a few moments too long, searching his gaze for any lies. She doesn't find them. Reaching out to him with her good hand, Lydia smiles back kindly. "Can you just-" She tilts her head for him to get inside as well. They don't discuss it.

In a matter of minutes, Stiles takes care of her hair the way Lydia tells him to, between murmurs and soft sighs of relief that Lydia lets out and can only attribute to him, to how safe he always makes her feel. Stiles whispers in her ear that everything will be okay so many times that she almost starts to believe it.

He helps her wash her body as well, cleaning all the filth from her skin as quickly as he can as if afraid it would never leave. In the end, Lydia is more relaxed than he's seen her in months. He relaxes too.

He helps her put her pjs on and combs her hair when they're back in her bedroom, dries it patiently the way Lydia tells him to so that it doesn't tangle. She has to admit he's done an amazing job when he finishes, praises his patience for putting up with her fits.

They lie down on her bed quietly after that, Lydia curled up beside Stiles, engulfed in his warm and welcoming embrace. She has no idea how long they stay in silence like that.

Stiles plays with her hair, running his fingers through it as he waits for her to fall asleep. She doesn't, though. When he thinks she's almost dozing off, Lydia looks up at him for a moment before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. He looks back at her surprised, the corners of his lips tilting up instantly. "What was that for?"

"To thank you."

He caresses her cheek, giving in to a shy smile that Lydia hasn't seen many times before. "Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

She nods. He kisses the top of her head.

Lydia nuzzles against him, murmuring the next words against his chest, eyes fluttering close as sleep engulfs her. "Are you sure everything's really gonna be okay?"

He can finally see their future more clearly, now that Lydia is literally in his arms. They'll both go to Stanford. Scott might stay behind for community college and maybe along with Kira. Roscoe is thankfully alive to make the drives back and forth for sure, which is perfect.

And Stiles is certain that in one of their trips to Beacon Hills to visit their families and the pack, his dad will tell him he's dating someone (hopefully Melissa), and Liam and Mason will stay out of trouble under Scott's guidance until they graduate and then who knows what the future holds for them?

And in five years Stiles and Lydia will be moving in together officially, and not just as roommates in college. In another two, Stiles will propose. By the time they're thirty, he expects at least one little Martin-Stilinski running around the house.

The supernatural? He's not worried. They've endured so much already and they're still standing. Whatever might be thrown their way in the future, they'll figure it out. So yes, he's sure. "I am."

They fall asleep.

 **A/N: Please review.**


	4. Drabble 4 - Stydia

**Drabble #4 - "Marry me."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences.

 **Summary** : Two strangers meet at a bar. Stydia AU.

 **Dedication** : For Conchi, newtevans on tumblr. Everyone go check Conchi's blog and wish happy birthday :)

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"Marry me."

At the raspy, hushed and certainly unexpected words, his head snaps to his right faster than he can really control, leaving him more lightheaded than he was already getting. "What?!" he spurts out in surprise. He hadn't even noticed someone was sitting beside him at the bar.

The young woman huffs in frustration, fiery red curls cascading down her back beautifully and contrasting with her black simple dress. There's no cleavage showing and her skirt ends just above her knees. The dress is short-sleeved, leaving him staring at how marvelous her porcelain skin tone is against the darkness of the fabric.

It looks like a dress appropriate for someone who works in an office, certainly not for someone who's sitting at a bar, seemingly alone and drowning her sorrows on hard liquor, talking to strangers. But then again, he can't judge. He's doing pretty much the same thing. He guesses she's about his age but looks a little bit older, worn-out, tired. When she says nothing, he lets out "Excuse me?"

She sits straighter, finishing the rest of her Jack in one large swig and placing the glass back on the counter before fully turning to the man she so indecently just proposed to. "Marry. Me." She enunciates both words slowly like she's daring him to say anything other than yes. If he does, she might just lose her mind and scream.

The man finishes his beer as well before glaring back at the woman, dumbfounded. "Are you seriously proposing to a random stranger in some shitty bar in the middle of nowhere just out of State Route 1?" He ignores the pointed look the bartender gives him.

"I am. I thought it was pretty obvious," she remarks matter-of-factly, already signaling the bartender to fill her glass again.

The brown-haired man follows her lead and asks for another beer, a sly smirk appearing on his lips. He's so thankful for the distraction right now he could kiss her. "What makes you think I'd marry you?"

"What makes you think you wouldn't?" she bites back with a smile, crossing her legs and catching his attention.

He blushes despite himself, grabbing the new beer as soon as it is within reach and taking another sip to hide his nerves before playing along. "You're obviously out of my league. Why would you ever consider me a suitable candidate?"

The woman sighs in early defeat. She's beautiful and she's confident; she should be able to ask a stranger to marry her and to have him accept without hesitation or further enquiry. Instead, even though the man seems to have wit and is easy on the eyes, he seems insecure, almost self-conscious in a way, and he's not really falling on her net. _Just her luck_. "Great. This day just keeps getting better. Now I can't even pick up a guy at a bar," she mumbles to herself, facing away from him and bringing her now full glass to her lips once more, clearly bothered.

He's lucky that he wasn't drinking when she said that; he'd probably spat out his beer. "What?" He chuckles, breaking the tension. "Is that how you pick up guys at bars? Seriously? That's your go-to move?"

The woman scowls at him. "No, of course not! I just- You know what, forget it," she murmurs, turning her attention fully to her drink, quickly getting lost in thought.

He watches her carefully as she does so, tucking her hair behind her ears and then tapping her fingers on the glass restlessly, a gorgeous shade of pink adorning her cheeks as she's left embarrassed. The man decides to put her at ease. It's not like he's got anything better to do and it's a good distraction from his problems, at least until he has to leave in a bit. God knows he needs it. And well… She started it. "What's your story?"

The woman glances at him curiously and decides to humor him, laying out the facts as they are. She made her own bed, after all. "I was engaged to a guy I barely knew because my parents thought he'd be an amazing trophy as a first husband. It's great for a 25 year old, right? _Socialites_ …" she hisses under her breath, briefly making a despising face before continuing. "Anyway, I had it all worked out to fled the scene in the middle of the ceremony just to get back at my parents, you know? Turns out the joke is on me because the guy left the church before I could. He didn't want to marry me either. I just ran the other way and got the hell out of there too. Took the first bus I could find, now I'm here," she says nonchalantly, bringing her Jack to her lips once again.

He gawks at her in disbelief. "You were left at the altar?" She nods. "I find that hard to believe…" He can't really tell why but intuitive as he is by nature, he's positive that she's telling him the truth and that only makes him more curious. He looks blatantly at her from head to toe, taking her in. "Wait. When was that?"

The woman checks her watch. "About four hours ago, give or take."

He's suspicious. "And you literally just ran out of the church where you had been left unmarried and took the first bus you found?"

She notices how he's searching for something in her story. What exactly, she wouldn't know. "Well, I only grabbed my luggage before I left." She looks down to her right and he follows her gaze, finding a travel suitcase he hadn't noticed there before. "I'd hidden it in an adjacent room. I've got everything I need with me."

"Everything you need to…?"

"To run away." She doesn't quite meet his gaze when she says that. "To start over."

Her features turn sad and so he doesn't push it. Instead, maybe a little banter will lighten up her mood. A beautiful girl like her shouldn't be sad. "You'll have to tell me how you managed to get your wedding dress in that suitcase along with all the other things you'd need to start a new life from scratch, because there's no way a big, fancy dress would fit in there."

She eyes him interestedly once more to find that he's not making a snarky remark or judging her in any way. His goofy grin seems genuine. "Oh, my wedding dress is not in there."

His mouth falls open again at how unpredictable the attractive stranger is. He likes her. "You got rid of your dress?" he asks disbelieving, imagining that a treasure like the girl in front of him deserves the best of the best, and he'd bet his life that her dress would have been one of the most extravagant to ever exist, and it wouldn't still probably be worthy of her.

The corners of her lips turn up to form a smug smile and she turns to face him completely again. "Who said anything about getting rid of it?" At his confused expression, her lips fall into the most adorable knowing pout he's ever seen and she dares let her hand fall boldly to rest on one of his knees for a little while before starting to slide it just the tiniest bit up. She watches him swallow dryly and place his beer on the counter as if he can't hold it in his hand of his own accord. "I'm really fond of _this_ dress."

He tries his best to control his emotions at her touch. "Are you kidding?" She shakes her head playfully, smiling sincerely for the first time since she met him. "You were going to get married in _that_?"

The woman shrugs her shoulders and straightens up on her seat, amused, licking her lips absently when he takes another swig of his drink. "I stomped my foot but choosing the dress was literally the only detail I was allowed to take care of for my own wedding. I kept feeling like I was going to a funeral, so I figured I should dress accordingly."

This time he does choke on his beer and she laughs, and it's such a beautiful sound that he wants nothing but to hear it again. "Oh my god, are you serious?" She just laughs harder, pushing her drink away before she spills it. He grabs a napkin and cleans himself up, giving up on his beer too. "You know what? I like you," he tells her off-handedly before turning a shameful red, realizing the words that came out of his mouth. "I- I mean…"

She cuts him off with a wink and a smirk. "Of course you do."

He narrows his eyes at her but soon he's laughing along, infected by how contagious she can be. "Where are you headed to?"

She fixes her dress and offers him a shy smile. No one has made her feel like this in ages. "Nowhere." She purses her lips. "Somewhere. I don't really know. Wherever the next bus will take me, I guess." She sees something in his eyes at her answer that she wasn't entirely expecting. Recognition. The mood between them changes just like that. She can only murmur. "Where are _you_ headed?"

He feels exposed under her gaze but revels in the way that he finds how she's smart. He hasn't met many smart women before. "Nowhere. Somewhere too." She scowls first but end ups smiling softly at his choice of words.

She rests her hands on her lap and taps her fingers, at peace for once. "And what's _your_ story?"

He gets up from his seat to stand close to her and whisper in her ear. If she wants to play, she should know he's well aware of what his moves are. "Now you'd have to get me way drunker than I am right now to hear all about my story, princess."

His voice comes out hoarse, his breath brushing her skin like a sin, and so she finds herself squeezing her thighs together and biting on her lower lip instantly. She looks over her shoulder to find him right there, too enticingly close. She all but hums to his lips. "I'm buying your next drink, then."

He lets out a laugh, the fingers of his left hand brushing hers tentatively before he checks the time and is reminded that he can't stop. Either he's on the road with a blank mind or everything will come crushing down on him and he can't have that, not yet. He's been ignoring it so far and has no intentions of giving in to the pain anytime soon. "I'd love that, but I should get going."

"To _nowhere_?" she asks unabashed.

"Yes. Gotta hit the road, you know?"

Her smile vanishes promptly, and she allows herself to hold his hand in hers, suddenly reminded that everyone leaves her, everyone keeps leaving her. She's the one always being left behind and forgotten and she's tired of it. She doesn't want that anymore. "Are you running away too?"

Her words are but a whisper but they still hit him hard in a way he wasn't prepared for. He's been ignoring the reason he left home for the past week and this stranger saw right through him in less than ten minutes. He tenses visibly and she just holds his hand more firmly. "In a way, yes."

His whiskey eyes show such vulnerability for a second that she's left stiff, barely breathing. She can't remember a time she's ever been shown such a genuine emotion. Her world is full of lies, has always been, and this interaction right here and now is the most real she's ever had. And she wants more. "Would you mind some company?"

The question takes him by surprise and he holds her gaze for a moment too long, searching for any signs of mockery or judgement. He finds none but his tone still turns serious. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into." Because he's a wreck, he should tell her. Because he has no one back home waiting for him, because his life ended a week ago along with his parents', because he can't imagine a future at all for him right now. He's barely living in the moment.

His words were murmured, hushed, and absently he got closer to her, his right hand subtly resting on her waist, the other still grasping her hand like he needs her to ground himself. Similarly, she's doing the same thing. Noticing him looking down at her with watery eyes, she finds that he might just be as damaged as she is, maybe more. She's not sure what compels her to lean forward, but in a second they're almost lips on lips, their breaths uneven. They are looking at the other like they've never looked at anyone before. It scares them and encourages them at the same time. "Neither would you, if you said _yes_."

He finds himself nodding, and in two minutes he's paid for both their drinks, grabbed her suitcase and entwined his fingers with hers, leading her in the direction of his beat-up Jeep, a present from his dad that is a constant reminder of how alone he really is now, but he can't find it in his heart to get rid of it.

He sits behind the wheel and revels in the way she takes off her shoes and pulls her hair up in a ponytail as soon as she's settled too, making herself comfortable like she belongs there. And just maybe she does. "I'm guessing this is not your vehicle of choice, but it runs. And it's all I have."

She doesn't know that he really means that, but she's starting to suspect as much. She turns back to find his trunk completely full, now that her luggage is there to fit in the only space he had that wasn't occupied, like a missing puzzle piece. "I like it," she murmurs honestly, a small smile on her lips. Who is she to judge anything, anyway?

He nods in acknowledgment, his hand moving to the ignition to start the engine but before he turns the key, he speaks so lowly she barely hears him. He keeps his gaze on his dash. "Can we…" He takes a deep breath. He hasn't allowed himself to think much about recent events and now is not the time to do so. "Can we keep any heavy talk for some other time?" Because he can already tell that it's where this is going, whatever this is. Eventually one or both of them will open up and let their guards down and he feels like he can't breathe just thinking about it, and there's no way he'll be able to drive on the edge of a panic attack.

She nods fiercely because she feels it too, not any less nor more than him, just differently. Irrevocable loss. "Banter it is then," she offers with a half-jiggle to dissipate the tension, reaching for his radio to find a station of her liking.

She still notices the stray tear that escapes his eye because he isn't quick enough to wipe it away, or maybe he just doesn't care that she sees it, but she doesn't comment on it. He gets the Jeep working and turns to her, offering the woman a grin that would have her weak on the knees would she be standing. "Where to?"

"You're letting me choose?"

He tilts his head a little, a lopsided smirk making its way to his lips. "Apparently. Only this one time, though." She rolls her eyes but he can see her smile before turning to the road in front of them, right out of the parking lot. "Left or right?"

She decides with right, if anything for what she's feeling after meeting him. "I'm Lydia, by the way."

A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. "Stiles." She makes a face and he chuckles. "What? It's a nickname."

She laughs wholeheartedly, turning to face him slightly on her seat. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."

He glances at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road, his cheeks turning pink and mirroring hers. "Likewise." They stay in comfortable silence after that for a while, and he just drives. To where, he doesn't know. And he doesn't care. "By the way, I'm not that drunk or anything. I was just-" He scratches the back of his neck. "You know, teasing you..."

She chuckles and he feels more relaxed instantly. "I know. You were having those low alcohol beers. I noticed."

He raises an eyebrow, amused. Mostly in awe, really. "You really _are_ smart, aren't you?"

She grins. "A certified genius."

"Then it definitely is a pleasure meeting you," he says, blushing harder. "But just so you know, this is by no means at all you picking me up at a bar, alright?"

She licks her lips absently again, offering him a devious grin even if, deep down, she knows he's right. "You keep telling yourself that."

"Whatever. I'm not marrying you, though," he remarks playfully.

This time, the joke is on him.

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It takes them 87 hours. 87 hours of teasing, sarcastic comments back and forth, heartfelt laughs and deep conversations in between contented silences. 87 hours since the start of a road trip to nowhere and somewhere filled with lazy driving, bad fast food and shitty motels. 87 hours until they fall in bed together and share their most private secrets and thoughts in the dead of night, their stories out in the open, hiding away from the world in a place they'd never heard of before.

And it's only the beginning.

Mending the other's wrongs, getting to know each other in a level they can't begin to comprehend, helping the other get better and be better with time, they settle on a small, welcoming town far away from their demons, starting their life together not long after that. With new jobs and new friends, coming home to the other is the best thing they've had in a while. They wouldn't want it any other way.

Two years later, he's putting a ring on her finger.

They go on a road trip once a year to celebrate.

 **A/N: Please review :)**


	5. Drabble 5 - Stydia

**Drabble #5 - "Why are you so annoying?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences.

 **Summary** : Lydia wants Stiles' jacket, he doesn't want to give it to her. Or Stiles and Lydia bicker at a coffee shop.

 **Tags** : Humor, Fluff, Winter

 **Based on the following prompt from otpprompts on tumblr** : "Imagine your OTP sitting in a coffee shop together while the weather is getting colder outside. Person A wasn't prepared for how cold it ended up, with only wearing a sweater, while Person B is bundled up in sweaters and jackets, and is enjoying their hot cocoa. Person A, even if they're a whole other size than Person B, keeps trying to get them to give them a jacket, while Person B just giggles and pretty much teases them about not planning ahead, and finally decided if Person A buys them another hot chocolate and gives a kiss that _maybe_ they'll give them a jacket. Whether Person A agrees, or Person B keeps their word, is up to you."

 **Dedication** : For Eliza, twwolfimagines on tumblr. That page has been discontinued and I tried getting ahold of Eliza without much success, but as promised, here is her drabble. I hope she'll have a chance to read it. Happy birthday, sweetie :)

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"Why are you so annoying?"

Stiles shrugs his shoulders, smiling at the redhead from behind his mug of hot chocolate, his elbows on the table and his stance relaxed as he enjoys the moment. "It's a gift." Lydia snorts at that. "I don't know why you're complaining, you love it."

" _Right_ , that and I'm hot right now."

"Technically, you're always hot," he quips in response, amused with the situation.

She bends over the small table to slap his arm playfully before bringing her own mug to her lips, taking a sip of her tea and pretending that he's not the reason she's blushing. "You know what I meant."

"Well, it doesn't make it any less true, now does it?"

"Stiles!" She looks at him in false shock because really, she should have been prepared for this.

It's their first year in college and because everyone is studying in different places around the country, they'd promised that the whole pack would get together for the winter holidays. Now it's their first weekend back home, a few days away from Christmas, and Stiles invited Lydia for coffee to _catch up_ but Lydia has heard all about this new Stiles. He has grown more confident with the college experience and apparently he's flirty now, and he's determined to make his move to get _her_.

Took him long enough.

"You know," she teases, "I still remember the young Stiles who would be a gentleman and help a girl out. What happened to him?"

He leans over the table slightly, wetting his lower lip. Lydia doesn't know whether he does it on purpose or not. "He's right here, smugly saying _I told you so_." Lydia rolls her eyes and he chuckles. "This is all your fault, Lydia. I warned you that it would be cold today."

She leans forward too. "And since when do I listen to you?"

"You don't. Thus why you're cold right now," he says plainly, "and I'm so, so warm and cozy."

Lydia scowls. "I hate you."

Stiles winks at her. He actually has the audacity of winking at Lydia Martin. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

She responds immediately, ignoring the way he's working her up so easily. "Stiles, I can barely feel my fingertips and I've shivered twice in less than a thirty seconds. I'm freezing to death," she dramatizes. "So can you please, please give me your jacket?" she begs with sparkly eyes and batting her eyelashes at him, cheeks rosy from the cold that started to settle itself on the late December afternoon.

"Sorry, Lyds. Not a chance."

She pouts adorably and pulls her puppy dog eyes. "Please, Stiles?"

He finishes his drink. "Yeah, I'm not falling for that."

"But Stiles, I'm so cold," she murmurs, placing her hand on the table close to his and brushing her icy fingers on the back of his hand. "See?"

He lets her get away with that because he's missed her, he's missed physical contact with her and dammit, he's been craving it - more than usual - ever since their plans for the holidays were confirmed. But he'll be damned if he doesn't tease her a little more. Holding both her hands in his, Stiles revels in the way that Lydia sighs and her eyes flutter closed for a moment at the comfort of his warm touch. "If only you'd listened to me..."

She opens her eyes only to narrow them at him, scrunching her nose and pulling her hands away from him to place them around her mug. "Well, I didn't." She'd been careless and just a little too excited to see him again. She chose a good winter outfit; jeans and a cute sweater, boots, even a beanie, but she hadn't really taken into consideration how cold it would get as the day neared its end. It really was her fault. "And now I'm cold. So can you lend me your jacket, please?"

She pouts once more and Stiles takes a deep breath. He can only have so much control of himself. "Stop that."

Lydia tilts her head, feigning confusion. "Stop what?"

She does it again.

Stiles licks his lips absently. "Stop pouting."

"Why?"

"Because it's making me want to kiss you."

Her heart skips a beat. She wasn't expecting him to be so blunt about it, and to make matters worse she's almost positive that she's blushing far more than he is, and it isn't from the cold. "Is this the new and improved Stiles I've been hearing so much about?"

He shrugs his shoulders again but smirks nonetheless. "Is it working?"

They're doing this then. Alright. She ignores his question just to tease him further. "Stiles, I _really_ want your jacket."

He sees right through her, biting on his lower lip briefly. "I'll tell you what." He adjusts on his seat, sitting straighter. "You buy me another hot chocolate _and_ give me a kiss, and _maybe_ I'll consider giving you the jacket."

Lydia raises an eyebrow, entertained. "Oh really? You're making me pay for the jacket?"

"Yep." Emphasis on the _p_.

"Is chivalry dead in this new persona of yours, or do you just find pleasure in being maddening?"

"I think you just answered your own question there," he muses. "Who knows? Maybe it'll get me somewhere."

"Uh. I guess we'll see."

Stiles settles back on his chair, waiting for her move. "So? Do you still want the jacket?" Lydia thinks of saying no just to provoke him but then she shivers again. Stiles laughs at her. "I'll take that as a yes."

Lydia glares at him for a moment before getting up from her chair without a word, just narrowing her eyes at him one more time. He still catches the smile that she tries to hide as she makes her way to the counter, hips bouncing more than usual with every step.

She's back in just a few minutes, a paper cup in her hands instead of another mug. "Here. For the drive home. The tab is paid for, so we can get going."

Stiles takes a sip of it promptly. Hot chocolate is one of his guilty pleasures. "Is it just a gesture of good will? Not for the jacket then?"

Lydia scowls before arguing. "Stiles, you have too many clothes on you. You can perfectly spare the jacket," she mutters, leaning on the table and closer to him, still standing up.

Stiles smirks. "If having too many clothes on me is a problem, we can fix that easily," he says, leaning in as well. "Wanna get out of here?" he teases, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Lydia only leans closer. "Are you gonna make me go outside without your jacket?"

"Are you gonna kiss me?"

And isn't that the question.

Lydia glances down at his lips - almost out of habit by now -, her heartbeat accelerating of its own accord. She decides to do it because why deny it? She wants it too. Cupping his cheeks, she looks at him intently, not minding everyone else that's on the coffee shop around them and loving the way that there's a fleet second when doubt crosses his eyes. She feels the same way. Still, she leans in all the way, allowing her lips to brush his ghostly without breaking eye contact.

Just as Stiles is about to close the already almost nonexistent gap between them, Lydia grins and moves to kiss him on the cheek instead. Then she straightens back up, looking at him victorious. He wants to wipe her smirk away. "Aren't you a fucking tease…"

"I can't see why," she chuckles. "But I believe I'm entitled to your jacket now."

Stiles stands up himself until he's all too close to her. "I said I'd think about it, I didn't say I'd give you the jacket. Besides…" His hands move slowly until his fingers entwine with hers. "You don't seem that cold to me."

Lydia just stares up at him, unmoving. "But I am."

He pulls her closer. "And is it the jacket you want?"

They ignore the way that a man on a table nearby clears his throat, obviously bothered by the scene. Lydia shakes her head. Her lips brush Stiles' again. "I just want to get warm," she says honestly. "Though I wouldn't mind wearing your jacket."

"I can think of other ways to warm you up. _Better_ ways."

It's what she's wanted to hear for months. "How long are you staying in town?" she murmurs.

Stiles lets go of her hands to place his on her waist. "Until after New Year's. You?"

She cups his jaw this time, one of her thumbs brushing the corner of his lips. "Me too. And when will we be back again? Together?"

"Easter," he replies promptly. "Then summer."

"We should make the most of it then." She pauses for a moment as if deliberating. "Right?"

He rests his forehead against hers. "Lots of catching up to do."

She nods before placing a chaste peck on his lips, gladly complying when he deepens the kiss. Neither looks too awestruck when they part, as if they were already counting on this to happen eventually. "Years, really."

His voice comes out hoarse. "My place? Dad is still working."

Lydia barely hears him but nods nonetheless, quickly gathering her things and shoving them into her purse as he watches her, amused. Before he knows it, she's leading him outside and onto the cold street until they reach his Jeep.

"Not cold anymore?" he jokes.

"I'm starting to warm up," she replies matter-of-factly. It's not exactly a lie.

He gives her the jacket anyway. It isn't until they're halfway home that Stiles remembers that he forgot his hot chocolate back at the coffee shop, but it's okay. Lydia makes it up to him in the end.

 **A/N: Please review :)**


	6. Drabble 6 - Stydia

**Drabble #6 – "Don't tempt me." / "Bite me." / "Eat me."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Mature

 **Summary** : Lydia tries to have sex with Stiles after their unexpected first time.

 **Tags** : Sexual content, mild language

 **Dedication** : A little smut for the lovely Julie, toonobleforanger on tumblr. Her birthday was yesterday and because my wifi wasn't working, I only posted it on tumblr for her last night. I'm posting on my other pages today.

I was only gonna use one of the sentence starters she chose, but I decided to play with all three. Set after their senior year, on summer break. They're both single.

I'm not entirely happy with it, but I'm still getting around writing smut. I hope you like it.

Happy birthday, sweetheart :)

xxxxxxxxxx

"Don't tempt me!"

Lydia glares at him - at his back really, because he refuses to acknowledge her advances - as he tries, rather unfruitfully, to read the bestiary. They're sitting in his living room, Stiles taking advantage of the large dining table to spread all of his research, Lydia sitting on the couch instead, legs crossed because he won't help her with her _ache_. Stupid Stiles. "You can do that later. It's not like the bestiary has somewhere to go," she murmurs playfully. "I, on the other hand, might."

Stiles looks at her over his shoulder. She chooses that exact moment to uncross her legs and cross them the other way. Stupid Lydia. "Then maybe you should. We've discussed this, Lydia."

"No, we haven't," she quips rather unpleased. Literally. "You made a decision and won't let me have a say in it. _I am not_ okay with that."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, lowering his head. "Yeah well, it's all you're gonna get."

"Stiles-"

"You know what?" he bursts, turning on his chair until he's facing her, tired of this. She's been trying to get to him for almost three hours now. It's getting ridiculous. "You had years. _Years_ , Lydia, of me pining over you when you could easily get me. Now we have sex one time, _one_ ," he raises his index finger to prove his point, "a month before we have to part ways and you're doing this? Are you kidding?"

Lydia gets up, unaffected by his words. He's been pulling this card all month. "Stiles, I-"

"Don't you fucking get up, Lydia. I told you we're not doing this."

She stays on her feet. "And I told you it isn't a big deal."

Stiles huffs, turning to the table again and determined to ignore her the best he can. "We're not having angry sex again."

"It wasn't like that."

He fidgets against one of his notebooks. "I was angry, you were angry, we had sex. It was our first time and we fucking had angry sex, Lydia. We're not discussing this."

She takes the four steps that were separating them, resting her hands on his shoulders. "Stiles, we were battered. We were frustrated and we dealt with it. It wasn't angry sex."

They'd come home from their last battle, all too tired with everything that life and the supernatural keep sending their way. Before they knew, by themselves at his house for the night, Stiles was pinning Lydia against his mattress, fucking her with abandon.

He thinks he overstepped his boundaries by being rough with her like that; Lydia thinks it was one of the best fucking experiences of her life. Pun intended.

It's been a month, and ever since then Stiles has been doing what he can to keep things between them civil, friendly. Lydia, however, has been hinting at wanting to repeat it. Stiles doesn't know what to make of that. He brushes her hands away. "For the love of god, Lydia, either you're here to help me or you'd better just go."

"Why? Am I making you frustrated?"

"YES! Now would you just… Sit or something," he tells her, disconcerted because she's getting what she wants.

She _tsks_ just to annoy him further. "You're no fun."

"Bite me," he mumbles to himself, picking up his pen and scribbling a note on the bestiary.

He's been tense ever since it happened and she's only managed to make out with him twice in the meantime and only out of a lot of persuasion because he feels guilty. She's told him repeatedly that it wasn't abusive whatsoever, she'd been very much into it and so had he, in the moment. It certainly made up for years of buildup and sexual frustration between them. Still, it can't even compare to the words they shared after, promises of love and companionship when they were already too beat to fully comprehend what they were saying.

She's been choosing to focus on that instead, but Stiles is still upset that he didn't get to have their first time in a way, she figures, he has imagined for years. She understands that, but it doesn't make her any less in love with him. Or less horny, for that matter.

She figures this could be her golden chance to try it again for today. "What?"

"I said _bite me_ , whatever. Now are you gonna help me or what?"

 _Oh_ , she'll help him, alright.

Lydia doesn't even hesitate in getting closer to him and leaning down, placing her lips on his neck, biting and sucking softly, just enough until she knows it'll bruise. Stiles manages to keep his mouth shut, pursing his lips for his moan not to come out but he can't help the way his eyes flutter closed.

"Please don't," he whispers weakly. Who's he kidding anyway? He's been wanting this ever since he had her for the first time. Hell, even before that. "Lyds, I-"

"Shh." She brushes her fingers along his collarbone leaving her hands on his neck, moving around him until she's straddling him on the chair. Stiles reluctantly distances himself from the table to make some more room for her.

She doesn't let him speak, her lips crashing on his quickly as if afraid he wouldn't let her. He replies slowly, his fingers running down her silky hair until they settle on her waist as their mouths move in sync. "Lydia…"

She rests her forehead against his and cups his cheeks, their lips brushing when she speaks. "Stiles, it wasn't angry sex. I was frustrated, you were frustrated, and it's okay. I told you it was okay. The fact that I want to have rough sex with you again doesn't change the fact that I want you, period. And I'll have you however I can." On the bed, on the floor, on his desk, against the wall, in the shower, slow sex, rough sex, normal sex, lazy sex… She's not picky.

He kisses her this time, all too lovingly because it's all he's ever wanted from her. God, he wishes their first time would have been different. "I'm sorry. I just-" This they have talked about. Because they'll be parting ways for college soon, Stiles has been insisting that they shouldn't do anything because they'll be heartbroken by the end of the month. "I don't want it to be any harder than it's already gonna be."

Lydia thinks differently. "We still have a month." A kiss on the corner of his lips. "A full month of talks," a kiss on his cheek, "sex", a kiss on his jaw, "and dates." Her lips find solace on his neck and Stiles tilts his head slightly, giving in. Like he ever stood a chance. "We can have a month full of fucking dates, Stiles, and I want that. Whatever comes next, we can figure it out."

"And then what? The month ends, we don't see each other for months in the best of scenarios… What are we supposed to do with that?"

She pecks his lips again. "We'll figure it out," she repeats. "I want this. Don't you?"

"Nah," he replies sarcastically. "Why would I-" She grinds down her hips. He moans this time. "Fuck. Stop tempting me, dammit!"

"Not until you're doing me."

He takes it as a challenge but fuck it, he'll just tease her a little bit until they can't take it anymore. "You might wanna go sit over there and make yourself comfortable while I decide on it," he tilts his head to the couch, "I might take a while here."

Lydia takes it as a challenge as well. He doesn't really know what he's in for. "You know what?" She gets up from his lap and smiles down at him deviously, an idea on her mind. "I'm gonna do just that."

He watches her sway her hips until she's sitting down on the couch again, then turns around to try and focus on the bestiary a little bit more. Like he can concentrate on anything but Lydia right now.

She doesn't make it easy for him in any way. A minute into their shared silence and she shoves something at Stiles' head. He finds it's her blouse. "Lydia, what-" he pauses mid-sentence, looking over his shoulder to find the strawberry blonde pulling down her skirt. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable," she replies nonchalantly. "You said you might take a while so…"

"Really?"

She starts taking off her heels, blushes under his lustful gaze as she's left in her red lacy bra and matching panties. "Really."

He groans but turns to the table again, determined to ignore her for a little while more. "Suit yourself."

Just what she wanted to hear. "Okay."

The next four minutes are spent in silence, Stiles pretending he's paying any attention to what he was supposed to be doing, instead daydreaming of that night they shared in his bed a month ago. He'll never live that moment down.

A hum brings him out of his reverie, but instead of searching for the source of the sound Stiles looks down, finding his jeans all too tight because of his wandering thoughts. He wonders what Lydia will think of it if he does nothing about it.

She surprises him though. He hears the same sound again, just a little louder than the first time, and turning around on his chair once more he finds that is coming from Lydia. Lydia, who took off her underwear. Lydia, who's lying down on his couch, strawberry blonde curls splayed around her like a halo.

Lydia, who has her hand in between her legs, obscene sounds coming from her mouth in low murmurs and in between pants, eyes closed and head pushing back against the arm of the couch.

Lydia, masturbating.

Without him.

How fucking dare she?

She pays him no mind, two fingers circling her clit just the way she likes, her free hand moving up to cup one of her breasts, pinching at the nipple gently. It almost leaves him undone right there.

He clears his throat and Lydia opens her eyes, licking her lips. "Having fun?" he asks, eyebrow raised, mouth dry.

"Oh, yes." She fucking smiles at him, one finger running down her slit to her entrance. "Doesn't it show?"

He scowls. "I fucking hate you."

"Funny. I'd think you'd hate to fuck me, but someone obviously disagrees," she chuckles, looking down at his erection, growing more apparent.

He blushes, more so when she pushes one finger inside of her, biting on her lower lip. "It's involuntary," he defends. "Nothing I can do about it."

"I'm pretty sure there are many things you can do about it," she teases. "Now are you gonna join me or will I have to do everything myself?"

"You're doing such a good job, Lydia," he mocks. "Keep up the good work. I'll be right here."

"There's nothing I can do to change your mind then?"

She adds another finger, her thumb working against her clit. Stiles swallows thickly. "Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Nothing you can say can make me chang-"

She looks right at him. "Eat me."

His heart stops beating. "W- What… What did you say?"

"Eat. Me."

Their eyes don't leave the other for a few seconds, their minds running a mile a minute. "Did you just…?"

"Stiles, I swear to god, if you're not on your knees in five seconds, I'm leaving."

He has the audacity of waiting until the remaining second to get up from the chair and make his way to where she is, obediently falling to his knees. Lydia adjusts on the couch so that she's leaning against its back, legs wide open for him. She stops moving her fingers when his hand stops her.

"Lydia, what are we doing?" he asks seriously because he knows that once he's in, there's no coming back from it.

"I don't' know," she answers honestly. "But I'd like to find out, whatever time we have to do it."

He takes a deep breath. "Are you sure?"

She nods, for once, almost shyly. "Yes."

He moves so quickly that she could have never seen it coming. One second she's sitting on the couch, shamelessly open to him, the other he has scooped her up and all she can do is hold on to him as he carries her to his bedroom. He mutters under his breath " _What the hell where you thinking?_ " and " _My dad could have walked in on us_ " all the way upstairs. She laughs freely.

He settles her on his bed, kissing her before anything else. Lydia holds on to the kiss, making the most of it. When they part, their pupils are almost completely dilated, breaths a little uneven, hearts beating fast in anticipation.

He pushes her down on her back gently, grabbing a pillow that he places under her to give them leverage. He doesn't need to part her legs; she does it for him. He settles himself on top of her, kissing from her lips down to her neck, collarbone, chest, stomach until he's too close to her center.

He kisses her inner thighs then, reveling in the way he looks up at her to find Lydia biting on her lower lip, looking down at him. Kneeling on the foot of the bed, he waits until Lydia nods at him, one of her hands finding his hair and tugging at it gently in encouragement.

She's already wet and he feels himself getting uncomfortable on his jeans at the sight. Stiles unbuttons them, pulling them down to his knees so that he's free to touch himself too. His dick twitches as Lydia props herself on her elbows to watch him eat her out.

His first lick his tentative, parting her lips to give her more sensation and spread her wetness, the tip of his tongue gently flicking against her clit once.

Lydia almost loses her strength and falls straight down to his bed right then, but she's determined on watching him. It turns her on. "Good. Just like that," she murmurs.

He repeats the movement a few more times before starting to try and spell out the alphabet because it's the first time he's ever tried this. Lydia is far more responsive than he ever thought she would be, moaning and whispering encouraging words, swearing when he sucks on her clit from time to time.

It turns him on.

Soon enough, one of his hands his down his boxers.

He stops eating her out from every few minutes, looking up at her to see how wrecked she is, how wrecked he's made her. She chastises him for ever stopping at such a time of need.

He kisses her inner thighs before continuing, applying more pressure than the last time, Lydia grinding her hips more intently than before. Eventually, Lydia gives in and falls flat on his bed, her hands finding purchase on his hair, inciting him further, pulling him closer to where she needs him.

When she tells him she's close, Stiles focuses on her clit, forgetting all about himself. Lydia rewards him by moaning louder than before, just the sight of him between her legs more than enough to do it for her. When she tilts her head to the side in pleasure and one of her hands lets go of his hair to grip at his sheets, she notices how hard he is.

It's all it takes to have her curling her toes, arching from the bed and alternating between murmuring his name and _fuck_ constantly as she comes. Stiles helps her through it, kissing his way up her body when she's blissed, finished for the time being, kissing her on the lips hard and filthy just so that she can taste herself.

Lydia only deepens the kiss, pulling him down until he's completely on top of her. Stiles holds himself up on his forearms when she's breathless, gasping for air. "Hi."

"Hi," she replies amused, happy, so fucking happy.

"You totally need to stop tempting me," he says goofily.

Lydia laughs, beaming as she cups his cheeks. "You're right. It's really not working."

"Not at all," Stiles chuckles, kissing the tip of her nose, then her lips again. "Wanna keep going?"

She breathes out against his lips. "Fuck yes."

 **A/N: Please review :)**


	7. Drabble 7 - Stydia

**Drabble #7 - "You're smart and successful with an adorable belly."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : General Audiences.

 **Summary** : Scott and Allison visit Stiles and Lydia in San Francisco to find that after five years of marriage and with a baby on the way, Stiles and Lydia are still very much in love.

 **Tags** : AU, Future fic, Married!Stydia, Married!Scallison, Pregnant!Lydia, Fluff

 **Author's note** : I've been dealing with A LOT of Pregnant!Lydia feels lately so I couldn't help myself. The birthday girl requested "a cute romance fluffy drabble" with married!Stydia and Scallison, "maybe double date sorta".

To avoid a long drabble, please admit that Allison never died. Their lives proceeded as they should and after college, Stiles and Lydia move to San Francisco after he almost dies to protect her. Afraid of losing him, Lydia convinces Stiles that maybe a simpler life would be best for them. They get married. She settles for teaching while Stiles joins the police department. The Sheriff ends up retiring and moving to San Francisco too, helping the SFPD with some cases when he's needed since he's an old friend of Stiles' Chief.

They all visit the others back in Beacon Hills every now and then.

PS: I love this so much it hurts.

 **Dedication** : For Alejandra, loveabletakesover on Wattpad. Thank you for this idea! Happy birthday sweetie :)

xxxxxxxxxx

"You're smart and successful with an adorable belly," he beams proudly, leaning in to kiss her cheek, placing his hand on her bump to feel the baby. "There's nothing you can't do," he encourages, even if she's made up her mind.

Lydia always blushes when Stiles says things like this. To her, he looks like someone who won the lottery. She thanks him with a chaste kiss on the lips, smiling wide. "And you're the best husband I could have ever had."

He winks at her. "You got that right."

Scott and Allison laugh, sitting across from them and entertained with their friends' display of affection. It's been a constant for long now, more so ever since Stiles and Lydia got married five years ago, but it never seems less genuine.

"Hey lovebirds," Scott chirps. "Can we continue the conversation or are we gonna have to cut this lunch short?" he mocks, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Allison slaps his arm playfully, looking apologetically but amused at the other pair. "We do have more important things to talk about."

"We do!" Lydia exclaims immediately. "Can we ask for dessert now? I'm still hungry."

"Lydia, you just ate. And you finished Stiles' order too," Allison jokes, far too happy that her friend is finally experiencing pregnancy. They've been waiting on this for a while now.

"Hey! If my wife says she's hungry, she's hungry," Stiles scowls at the brunette, getting up from his chair. "I'll go get it, Lyds. I'll be right back."

He kisses her forehead and is gone before she can tell him that she can wait a little bit, that he doesn't have to go. It's not like she's famished. The baby though, the baby seems to be.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about Lydia," Allison continues their previous conversation. "Your students are supportive, they've showed it to you several times before. And like Stiles said, you're smart. I'm sure between you and him, you'll find a way to teach your classes more efficiently and still save some time to work on your dissertation so that you can rest more."

"You think?" she asks, unsure. She'd been lucky because she'd only started showing recently even if she's already on her way to her four month of pregnancy. She's been trying to cover it up with large clothes but, according to herself, they don't make her look like she's qualified enough and that's something she dreads. She can't even imagine what it'll be like in a few months and she's scared that her students will see her as unprofessional or slacking or unreliable. She doesn't want that.

"We know," Scott assures the strawberry blonde. "You can do it, and we're here to help you through it."

"Thank you. But I uh…" She fidgets on her lap. "I think I'll postpone my dissertation for now. I want to be ready when the baby comes, or as ready as one can be anyway. And I want to take good care of myself and the baby during the pregnancy. Being up all day teaching those kids and then having to grade their works and prepare classes and everything will already be challenge enough. And I don't want to neglect Stiles either. He's been… He's been everything and I want to be there for him to. I'll pick up on my dissertation again when the time is right. The school already knows," she tells them.

"And what does Stiles think about this?" Allison asks sympathetic.

Lydia smiles. They've discussed the matter more than once and he let her made her own choice. "He's supportive, he always is. Whatever I choose to do, I know he'll always be there. He just wants what's best for me."

"Damn right I do," Stiles grins, coming back to the table and sitting beside her again. "Here." He sets a chocolate cupcake and a bowl of cut-in-half strawberries in front of her. He swears her eyes sparkle. Stiles turns to Allison and Scott. "I'd still-"

She cuts him short, kissing his cheek all of a sudden. "I love you."

Stiles rolls his eyes playfully, stealing a half a strawberry. "I know," he chuckles.

She smacks his hand away. He kisses the tip of her nose.

"Guys, can you not behave like two teenagers in love? God, I feel like we're the kids and you're the parents and you're embarrassing us," Scott murmurs with a smile, looking around to find several families in the restaurant looking at Stiles and Lydia.

Allison laughs. "Every damn time. It's like we can't go out anywhere with the two of you. And with the pregnancy it's even worse."

"Well excuse you if I love my wife," Stiles says with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

"He really does," Lydia defends in between bites. "But okay, we'll behave."

"Yeah," Stiles remarks sarcastically. "Sure."

xxxxxxxxxx

The afternoon is spent at the local mall. It has been a while since the four of them hung out by themselves and it's nice. They've missed it.

They settle for some therapy shopping because their busy lives take over most of their free time. While the girls try on some new clothes - especially Lydia, who needs new outfits to use at work -, the boys wander around the mall aimlessly, catching up.

"I still can't believe she's pregnant," Stiles confesses, smiling like a fool. "Like, we go to bed every night and she's there. Lydia Martin is there, in my bed, and she gets to sleep in my arms. I don't think it'll ever be something I'll get used to, but now? She has a baby bump, and I couldn't really notice it until like two weeks ago but now I can and she's so freaking beautiful, Scott. God, I…"

"I'd say marry her, but you already did," his best friend tells him, patting Stiles on the back.

"Was it like this for you, with Connor?"

Scott remembers all too well the months of Allison's first pregnancy. "Yeah. I mean, we weren't as bad as you too with all the PDA but… There's a beauty to it that is just there, like one day she's just your wife but then she's like this unimaginably more perfect human being. I couldn't get enough of her."

"Well, I can't get enough of Lydia and she can't get enough of me either, I'll tell you that. She's definitely challenging me." Lydia was already very much in favor of having a healthy sex life, more so now that she jumps him anytime she can. He refuses to complain.

"Welcome to the club," Scott jokes. "Have you talked to your dad yet, about the shifts?"

"Yeah." Stiles scratches the back of his neck. "He's thinks it's a good idea but he doesn't want me to work too much. I talked to Chief and he's working on it, seeing where he can fit me more maybe once or twice a week. And dad is really excited about the baby but he doesn't want me to overwork. I just want to save some more money, you know, for when the baby's here. Oh, that reminds me." He makes his best friend stop. "Dude, I need a favor."

"What did you do?" Scott mocks.

Stiles frowns. "Nothing! Actually, it's for what I want to do. You know Lydia's birthday is coming up next month, right?" Scott nods. "Well, I was thinking of offering her a weekend at the spa and maybe Allison could join her. It would be great for her and that would give us the weekend to ourselves."

"For?" Scott questions, curious.

"To put together the nursery. I have everything ordered already. The furniture, the painting for the walls, the carpet. I just… I could use some help and I'd rather it was you."

Scott beams. "Dude, that's great."

"You think so?"

Scott opens his arms to give Stiles a hug. "Lydia doesn't know about this, right?"

"Nope. She's been looking for ideas and she found one that she really liked. I chose the things that would look more like what she wanted. And I have an idea for the paintings on the wall too."

"I'm sure she's gonna love it. And besides, I have something to tell you too."

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The girls end up in a baby store two hours later, Allison telling Lydia what she should and shouldn't buy as they look at pretty much every single item in display.

"Did you ever worry?" Lydia asks suddenly. "More than a _normal_ mom, I mean."

"Because of the supernatural?" Lydia nods, pursing her lips. "Yeah, of course. It's already scary knowing that you're bringing a child into this world but to _our_ world? It's terrifying. But we have the pack, we have each other."

"I worry about him sometimes," Lydia confesses. "Especially since we found out I'm pregnant. Stiles comes home from work later than usual sometimes and it worries me. Ever since that night ten years ago, I just… I'm always scared I'll lose him, Ally. I get teary just thinking about it and now with a baby on the way…"

She does get teary and Allison puts an arm around her waist, pulling her best friend closer. Lydia rests her head on Ally's shoulder for a moment. "It's normal to worry. And your hormones are not gonna help you with that, unfortunately. Bur we're here, we're all here. You'll be okay."

"You're too far away, though," Lydia mumbles before letting go of her friend. "It's not like we're living that close to one another. And I miss the kids."

"Well, they talk about you two all the time." Allison and Scott's five year old Connor and three year old Ellie had stayed back in Beacon Hills with Melissa so that the couple could have a much deserved weekend getaway. "Besides, we Skype every day, Lydia."

"It's still not the same. I'd love to have the kids around more often," she smiles sadly, looking at several baby strollers.

There's a pause before Allison tells her the news. She and Scott have everything worked out and were waiting for the right moment to tell Stiles and Lydia, but hell with it. Her best friend needs to know. "What if I told you that we're moving?"

"You're moving?" Lydia turns to face her, surprised.

"Yes," she nods happily. "And not farther away," she adds quickly, noticing Lydia's panicked expression.

"Then…"

"We may or may not be thinking about getting a house three blocks away from you and Stiles," she lets out excitedly, getting a few glares from some of the customers at her outburst.

Lydia literally jumps and claps her hands at the news before throwing herself at Allison's arms, hugging her tight. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Scott replies from behind her. "Man, we were starting to think we'd lost you two. This place is a maze."

Lydia lets go of Allison only to hug Scott instead. Allison smiles at the redhead's reaction. "I'm sorry I told her," she says to Scott. "I just-"

"It's okay, I told Stiles too."

Stiles grins, welcoming Lydia into his arms. He kisses the top of her head. "Now everything is perfect."

"And that's not all. Mom is coming with us. I think they finally sorted things out," Scott adds.

"Are you kidding?" Stiles is just as excited as Lydia now. "God, we've been waiting on this for years. I have no idea how they managed to not get together sooner."

"According to your dad, they're not getting together. He just offered his spare room to her because he didn't make sense that they'd both be paying for different houses, the economy and all," Scott laughs.

The others join him. "Sounds like me dad," Stiles scratches the back of his neck. "He didn't tell us anything about it," he says, glancing at Lydia for confirmation.

"It was gonna be a surprise."

"Well, it sure was," Lydia beams. "I'm so happy."

"Yeah, me too," Stiles says. "We'll have the kids around more often, it'll be awesome."

Allison grins. "You two… I honestly don't think you could have found anyone more perfect for yourselves. A match made in heaven."

"Hell, actually," Stiles mocks. "It was in Beacon Hills, after all."

Sometimes they wish things could have gone differently, but then they probably wouldn't be where they are today.

They wander around the store for a little bit, swooning over the small outfits they found but not really looking to buy anything.

"How about we celebrate over dinner at your house? We'll cook," Allison offers. "I'm sure Lydia is getting hungry again."

Lydia grins. "I'm not gonna oppose to that."

"Then maybe we should go," Stiles murmurs, kissing her temple. Lydia replies with a quick kiss on his lips. They get lost in each other's eyes for a moment.

It's great, though, because Allison hands Scott a pair of the cutest, most colorful baby shoes she's ever seen, whispering in her husband's ear " _Go pay for them and I'll distract them. It'll be our first gift for the baby_ ". Paying closer attention to them, Scott thinks it's ironic.

Months later, when Stiles and Lydia are given the shoes at Lydia's baby shower, Lydia goes on and on about how adorable the little wolves in them are. Stiles… Stiles thinks it's poetic and can only revel in the way they're perfect for his baby daughter, and how they match with the baby wolves he and Scott drew along the walls of the nursery so that they're always there to protect his little girl, a forest painted all around in pastel colors.

 **A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think :)**


	8. Drabble 8 - Stydia

**Drabble #8 - "It's always been you."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences.

 **Summary** : Stiles and Lydia spend their last night together before they part ways for college.

 **Tags** : Established relationship, Break up, Hurt

 **Author's note** : This is technically a chapter I'll use in one of my fics in the future. I really like this sentence starter and it'll go great with what I intend on doing with that story. Lets see if any of you can guess to which fic this chapter belongs to.

 **Dedication** : To Rachel, one of my sweetest readers/followers. She's rachel-me on tumblr. Go say hi and wish her happy birthday :)

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"It's always been you," he murmurs, his thumb brushing her arm softly and tugging her slightly closer to him. "Like, right from the very beginning, it's always been you. I can't really tell why but ever since we argued by the swings on third grade, I just… I just knew." He cups her cheek with his free hand. "Do you remember that?"

Lydia chuckles sadly, looking up at him. "Yes. You wanted to go again and I-"

"Started reciting every rule there was for recess," he finishes for her. "I was so surprised that you knew all of them that before I knew it, you were already on my swing. All I could do was watch in amazement."

"You were such a hyperactive little brat, always getting into trouble with Scott," she smiles, revisiting the memories.

"Like you were any better," he mocks. "You just knew how to talk your way out of it. My smart little banshee," he says fondly.

It breaks her heart that they're in this position. This was a conversation they were never supposed to have, not under these circumstances anyway. She leans in and kisses him, taking her time because she knows she won't get the chance to do it often anymore.

He delves into it too.

"Stiles-" she whispers, already knowing the answer.

"No. We have everything set. We're doing this, Lyds," he says calmly, trying not to let his emotions show on his features.

"But-"

Stiles slowly places a strawberry blonde curl behind her ear. God, he's gonna miss her so much. "No. We've talked about this. Th- There's no going back now," he stutters, holding back a sob.

Her lower lip trembles and her breath hitches. "Can I… Stiles, I- I have to cry. I can't… I know we promised but I…" A tear falls down her cheek and Stiles doesn't wipe it away. He knows she needs this.

He does too. "It's okay," he complies, giving her a sad smile of his own.

They're cuddled up on his bed after a whole day of just staying together, the imminence of their separation dawning on them in a damaging, breathtaking way. It's their last night together after all.

He's not sure how long she cries against his chest but he lets her, shedding a few tears as well. "Stiles-" she pleads, throat raw and aching with sorrow for what is yet to come. For what is to become of her and him, but not _them_. "Stiles, please. Please reconsider."

He kisses her this time, intently and passionately the same way he's been kissing her for the six months they've been together, deepening the kiss as soon as Lydia moves to straddle him, her hands cupping his jaw and pulling him closer. He tastes the tears on her lips mixed with their regrets and all their sorrows, the time they won't get to have in the future weighing him down. He can't let her win.

He breaks the kiss. "No. Lydia, I can't. You're doing this. You're leaving and you're going to get your degree and win a Fields Medal and be successful beyond comparison, okay? And in the meantime I'll stay here, feeling so fucking proud of you that it'll be like I've never left you, alright? It'll be like I'm right beside you, I promise."

He kisses the tip of her nose and her lips again, quickly. Lydia sobs. "What if I don't want that?" she argues.

They've discussed this before but in the last few weeks it has been harder for Stiles to convince her. He's not backing down, though. "You want that, Lydia. You've wanted it for years. I'm not letting you waste your dreams because of-"

"You?" she snaps. She's angry and hurt but he doesn't mind her outburst. It's her way of dealing with this. "Why won't you see that you are enough for me, Stiles? I love you so much and you just… You want me gone and I- I don't know…"

"Hey." He takes her hands in his and speaks softly, looking right into her eyes. "I love you, Lydia Martin. I have always loved you. I loved you when I was too young to know what it meant. I loved you when I thought it was nothing but a crush. I loved you every minute we've spent getting to know each other in the last few years. I loved you more since we started dating. I love you now. I'll love you always. You don't get to think any less, Lydia. And we're doing this for you."

"Don't you think I know that?" she whines, wiping away her tears. "It doesn't make it hurt any less, Stiles. I- I can stay."

"You won't."

"I could."

"I wouldn't let you," he quips quickly.

"Stiles-"

"Lydia, it's our last night together. Do you really want to spend it arguing?" She shakes her head slowly. "This is happening. You're spending the night and in the morning, you'll be gone. And I'll hear from you when you're arriving at the East Coast and you're gonna tell me how different everything is there. You're gonna go to college there and I'm gonna go to college here. We're gonna talk every day and maybe, with time, it won't hurt as much. Who knows? Maybe we'll find each other in a random parking lot five or six years from now."

Lydia leans forward to rest her forehead against his. "What if we don't?" She can't even bear that thought.

"We'll figure something out. You'll see." He tries to give her a hopeful smile.

He fails miserably.

She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around his shoulders. "We won't see each other for years."

It's part of their agreement. Lydia leaves to get the future she's always wanted, Stiles lets her and will do everything in his power not to let her come back to him until she has a Fields Medal in her hands. He hugs her tightly. "It's for the best."

"What if I want to be selfish? What if I want to stay for you? For us?"

Her voice breaks a little at the end. So does his heart. "You won't."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to be happy."

Lydia distances herself from him enough to look him in the eyes. "What about your happiness?"

"Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, Lydia. You've known that for a while."

She has. "What if I want to stay and make you happy and be happy because of it?"

"I'm not changing my mind, Lydia."

"What if I'm weak?"

"You're one of the strongest women I've ever met. You're gonna nail college, you're gonna get your Fields Medal and I'm gonna be there to tell you _I told you so_. This is gonna work, Lydia."

"What if we never find each other again?"

"If we're fated, we will."

Lydia purses her lips and searches his eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

He nods and offers her a genuine smile this time. "I do. And I believe you."

She kisses him again because she knows there's no way around it. She's known it for a while. She just has to learn to accept it. "I love you. So, so much."

"I know. And I love you." They stay silent for a moment just looking at each other. "You know I just want what's best for you, right?"

"I know," Lydia nods, placing another chaste kiss on his lips. "Thank you."

"You can thank me when you show me your medal, alright?"

She will. "I will," she promises. A few more moments pass them by without words, hearts beating fast and throbbing more painfully with every minute as the morning seems to come faster and faster. "What now?"

He kisses her forehead. "Now we make the most of tonight."

"And in the morning I'll be gone."

"And in the morning you'll be gone."

The words hurt her more than any action ever could, but she trusts him, she trusts his judgement. This will work.

It has to.

She lies beside him again and relaxes too, pulling her to him because he knows he might never get the chance again. "You fascinate me, Lydia Martin, always have. I hope that will never cease," he murmurs hopefully, hugging her close.

"You know what's funny?" In a very sadistic, twisting way. "It feels like it's always been you too." And it has.

He was there for her even before she knew him, he was there whenever she gave him the chance to walk beside her, he was there even when she didn't know she needed him.

When Deaton said they were emotional tethers, she embraced it immediately. There weren't questions about what the hell he meant or if he'd lost his mind because Lydia knew, deep down, that Stiles was already hers in a way that he's known she was his for years. Even if he didn't quite know how to define it.

The sense of rightness that is Stiles has always been there, she just didn't know. And it got bigger with every passing year, from the time they went to the Formal to when he saw her crying in her car. From when he scored a goal because she was on the stands to when he looked at her stunned because Lydia had kissed him. It got bigger with every effort he's ever done regarding herself. Stiles is a part of her, has always been.

She knows that, and he knows that too.

"I know" are the only words he replies with because he's known it for a while. Lydia is not really surprised.

He's Stiles and she's Lydia and they've been dating for six months.

He's Stiles and she's Lydia and he's letting her go for the bright future that lies ahead of her.

He's Stiles and he's in love with her the same way that she's Lydia and she's in love with him.

And for the moment being, nothing else matters.

Their last hours slip through their fingers frustratingly fast. They defy it.

 _They defy time_.

For the last time until they see each other again years from now, it's the slowest they've ever made love.


	9. Drabble 9 - Stydia

**Drabble #9 – "You're jealous, aren't you?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles finds out that Lydia is jealous and he won't stop until he admits it.

 **A/N** : This is part 1. I'm not sure if there will be only a part 2 or a part 3 as well, but the ending will be posted on December 4th, for Zarish's birthday – stydiasroden on tumblr.

 **Dedication** : For the lovely Belle, kirughyukimura on tumblr. Everyone go her blog and wish happy birthday :)

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"You're jealous, aren't you?"

Stiles looks so smug when he says it that Lydia smacks him in the chest, rolling her eyes to make a point. " _Of course_ I'm not jealous."

Like he believes that. " _Sure_. Whatever you say," he teases, handing her his red cup.

The banshee drinks the rest of his vodka in one swig. "I _am not_ ," she says pointedly, getting frustrated.

"Lydia, I can smell you from across the room. Who do you think you're kidding?" Scott interjects, laughing at both of his friends and sitting down on Lydia's other side.

Leaving Stanford for a three-day weekend, Stiles and Lydia made their way to visit Scott at UC Davis and then their family back in Beacon Hills. Right now? They find themselves at a college party that Scott had dragged them to in some shitty dorm where the host is a new friend of their Alpha, sharing drinks while sitting on the couch with Lydia scrunched in between both her best friends, wrinkling her nose at pretty much everything. It's not like she doesn't go to parties at Stanford because of course she does, but they're usually a little more… On her level, she likes to think.

Her problem right now, though, is Stiles. Stiles always goes with her to said parties back at Stanford, and while she's grateful to have him with her, she's not entirely satisfied with the way people look at him - girls _and_ boys alike -, like he's a piece of meat about to be devoured. And okay, she can admit that he's been looking good, _really_ good lately but that doesn't mean that he deserves all this attention. Hell, he's been faring far better than Lydia and that thought is just absurd on her book!

They're equals. At the very least they should be on the same page. With each other, preferably.

No! Wait. She doesn't mean that...

The thing is that at Stanford, no one is gonna call her on it.

Not that she's jealous, _obviously_.

But alright, maybe sometimes she glares at whoever comes too close to him and some of them actually back away but others don't, so Lydia lets it happen and watches Stiles leave the parties with someone who's not her and doesn't say anything about it like the good friend she is.

And yes, _just friend_! It's not like she has feelings for him or anything…

Anyway, here? Away from Stanford?

Fuck Scott McCall and his werewolf super senses, seriously! (No offense, of course, bless his soul. She loves her Alpha to pieces, except when he's inconvenient like this.)

Lydia crosses her arms over her chest defensively. "Keep your nose to yourself, Scott, or I'm gonna tell Kira what I found out."

He pales immediately even if he doesn't know what she's talking about. Lydia Martin's threats are not something to consider lightly. "Wh- What are you talking about?" He glances between Lydia and Stiles.

Stiles blushes but keeps his mouth shut. He was the one spilling the secret when Lydia got him drunk a few weeks ago. He's _so not gonna_ say anything… "Don't look at me."

Lydia does, though. Glares at Stiles, actually, with a triumphant smile on her lips that he wants to wipe away. She knows she's won. _Shit_! "So, can we go mingle now?" she asks, trying to change the subject.

Stiles knows, he swears on his life he knows that he shouldn't defy Lydia Martin but hell, he's stubborn. He's stubborn and if Scott says that Lydia smells like jealousy whenever someone else competes with her for his attention, Stiles is gonna push her. It has to mean something, _right_?

He actually gets closer to the strawberry blonde, placing one of his – large, perfect, that could become handy if Lydia were to be asked – hands on her knee and making it difficult for Lydia to stand up (or think straight too, not that she'd ever admit it). The fact that she heats up immediately has nothing to do with his touch, or with the words he spills next for that matter. "Not until you admit you're jealous."

Lydia tries not to think of how close he really is. Stiles is so close that she can actually feel his breath on her lips. Scott just watches them in amazement, sipping on his drink. "How long are you gonna keep up with this?" she inquires, tilting her head.

"For as long as I can. Have you met me?" he grins. "Just admit it so we can be done with this."

His smirk makes her squeeze her thighs together and Lydia momentarily forgets that his hand is still on her leg. His smirk only grows wider. _Bastard_. She pats his chest fondly and gives him such a bright, conniving smile that his heart skips a beat. "Never."

There are quite a few moments passing them by before either of them says anything, never breaking their gaze. Stiles thinks he imagines the way Lydia leans slightly forward but Scott, of course, interrupts them to be a dick. "Guys, if you want to go back to my room and get rid of that absurd sexual tension, it's okay. I understand. Just not on my bed," he muses, smirking at the pair.

It's hard to say which of them blushes harder. Lydia throws the empty paper cup to Scott's face. "I think that's enough, Scott," she murmurs lowly, knowing that the werewolf will be able to hear her.

"Obviously not. You two reek."

Stiles laughs loudly. "Ready to admit you're jealous?"

Lydia purses her lips and puts on her thinking face just to annoy him, taking longer than she has to. "Nah. Definitely not jealous," she says, shrugging her shoulders.

She likes to play, he knows that all too well. But he's game too. "Then it wouldn't be an issue if I were to, say, leave the party with someone else, right?"

"I'm sure Scott wouldn't leave me alone. And I don't see how you leaving with someone would be any of my business," she mutters, trying her best to look unaffected.

"Funny. Could have fooled me," Scott teases. Lydia slaps his arm.

"Go ahead, see if I care."

Stiles shakes his head smugly and _tsks_. Lydia hates him so fucking much, god! "Now, now, Lydia. That's not being a good friend."

"Sweetheart, who said I'm your friend?"

Stiles leans to whisper in her ear. The way she shivers it's obviously because of the cold that can be felt on a tiny apartment completely full of students partying hard all around them. _Obviously_. "I love it when you call me sweetheart."

Lydia blushes despite herself, she can help it, because she loves it when his voice comes out raspy like that. Thankfully for her – or not, she can't really tell since she's adamantly trying to deny that she's attracted to him -, Stiles kisses her cheek and says goodnight, telling his friends he'll meet them in the morning. Next thing Lydia knows, Stiles is engaging in a flirty conversation with a tall blonde that hasn't stopped eyeing him since they arrived to the party. _Fuck_.

"You know," Scott tells her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders comfortingly, "it wouldn't be so bad if you just went for it."

Lydia shrugs it off. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm pretty sure that you do."

"Whatever. Can we go mingle now? Or just go?" she says, getting upset when she sees the blonde dragging her lips along Stiles' neck and he fucking has the audacity of looking right at Lydia. _He knows_.

"We can. Or maybe you can just admit that you're jealous and he could be going home with you tonight instead."

Why does Scott have to be the voice of reason all the time? She hates it. "I hate you."

"You'll thank me one day."

She glances at Stiles and all she can see is defiance in his eyes. He's her match, she's known it for quite some time. It only means that she has to play along. "Not today."


	10. Drabble 10 - Sterek

**Drabble #10 – "The planet is fine. The people are fucked."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Derek

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles is a babbler. Stiles is a babbler and his big mouth leads to him getting hurt, and the fact that he's bleeding onto Derek's floor doesn't make it any less true.

 **Tags** : Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Hurt!Stiles, Bisexual!Stiles, mentions of Lydia, minor Stydia background, I suck at tagging really

 **A/N** : To all the Sterek shippers that might read this: I'm a Stydia shipper and I will be until my dying breath but Sterek means something to me as well. I don't see Sterek romantically in canon but I do think that their relationship has evolved with time and that their friendship should have been more explored in the show. Regardless, I think Sterek has great potential in fanon and I've read countless Sterek fics to the date. AUs are my favorite. I think there are immense possibilities to write Sterek in alternative settings, let alone the fact that there are amazing Sterek fics' writers out there, so a shout out to them. Besides, to me Stiles is clearly bisexual even if they've been ignoring it more and more in canon. It was written from the very beginning, they just didn't go for it. In my honest opinion, Stiles/Lydia/Derek could have been quite the trio.

This is not my first time writing fanfiction and I'm still relatively new to writing it (going on 11 months now), but I've only written for Stydia. And even though I've written quite a few fics so far, this is my first time writing for Sterek, so please go easy on me. Still, I'd love to know what you think about it. And pleasekeep in mind that English is not my first language.

That said, this little birthday drabble is dedicated to Leonie (leetje on tumblr/twitter) and it's set three years in the future, when Derek is back in Beacon Hills. Even if I'm more comfortable with Sterek AUs, I tried to write this closer to canon. I hope you like it :)

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"The planet is fine. The peopl-" Stiles winces when Derek helps him take off his plaid and touches his bicep to check the bleeding wound. "The people are fucked."

Derek tries his best to keep his mouth shut since Stiles can't seem to be able to. At least he hasn't in the last twenty minutes; he's been talking his ears off ever since Derek picked him up. Derek would take it for shock if it wasn't Stiles' usual blabbering self.

"Seriously though," Stiles continues. "Who the fuck just tries to rob a guy? And with a _knife_?" he asks, almost incredulous. "What kind of world are we livin' in?"

Derek rolls his eyes, gesturing for Stiles to sit on the couch while he goes look for the first aid kit. "It's not like we're in Beacon Hills or anything," the werewolf remarks sarcastically, raising his tone a little bit so that Stiles can hear him from the other room.

Derek doesn't hear a response but ignores it, grabbing the kit and a couple of small towels from the bathroom, along with a bowl with clean water from the kitchen. After placing everything on the coffee table in front of Stiles, he goes back to bring out a small metallic container and a bottle of vodka as well, returning to the living room to find Stiles pacing around the loft, dripping blood to the floor like he doesn't even notice he's doing it, flailing arms and a hyperactive stance that Derek would see on Stiles on any normal day. But Stiles doesn't bleed as a general rule, not if Derek or anyone else from the pack can help it. "I thought I told you to sit."

"You know I can't just stay still," Stiles quips, continuing walking back and forth and tripping on his own two feet like the clumsy little bastard he is because of the adrenaline. As a reflex, Derek grabs his elbow so that Stiles doesn't fall on his face and Stiles winces in pain again, the blood staining Derek's hand where he's touching Stiles.

Derek relaxes his grip on him to a gentler grasp, but still firm enough to direct Stiles to the couch and make him sit. Stiles mumbles something incoherent but Derek dismisses it, opening the first aid kit on the coffee table and taking out several items, taking a seat as well. "You are _supposed_ _to be_ still. You haven't stopped moving your arm ever since-"

"I was almost stabbed to death?" he asks exaggeratedly. "I'm aware."

Derek does groan this time, pulling the sleeve of Stiles' t-shirt up to his shoulder and taking a better look at the wound. "That's barely a scratch, Stiles."

It isn't. He knows that it isn't but making Stiles more anxious won't play in his favor. Stiles is already pale as it is.

"I know it's not, okay? Just…" Stiles lowers his head, focusing his gaze on anything but his hands, dirty with his own blood. His head is pounding. "Just fix it." There's a moment of silence between them, an uncertainty and almost shyness settling itself in the quiet room that makes the silence seem bigger than it is. Derek almost thinks of teasing Stiles further to distract him when Stiles murmurs almost inaudibly "You can fix it, right? _Please_?"

There's a tremble of pain in his voice, Derek notices, and he doesn't hesitate in placing one of his hands on Stiles' arm to ease it. Stiles turns to face Derek quickly, jolted at the contact, but realizes it's only to relieve him from the ache. He can't help but to be a little disappointed at that.

Derek doesn't say anything, just waits for the black lines to disappear in between deep breaths. "Better?"

Stiles blushes despite himself, more so when Derek's fingertips brush softly on his arm as he pulls his hand away. If deliberately or just a coincidence, Stiles wouldn't know. "Y- Yeah. Thanks."

"Shouldn't you call your dad?" Derek asks, genuinely curious as to why Stiles decided to call him and not someone else. If anything, to know if Lydia was right.

"Just because I'm 21 and still living with him, doesn't mean I have to tell him everything," Stiles replies a little more bitterly than intended, the adrenaline starting to wear off.

"I meant as in he's the Sheriff and someone just tried to rob you. Attacked you, actually. What the hell were you thinking, trying to fight back? You're human, Stiles."

"Hey, I'm not defenseless!"

"Could have fooled me." Because why not provoke Stiles a little bit? It's not like their conversations are 90 to 95% snark and banter all the time, anyway, and Stiles obviously could use the distraction. "Do you still faint at the sight of blood?"

Derek regrets asking it the second Stiles pales visibly at his question and avoids his gaze, looking down at his own stained hands this time. It takes him a moment to reply. "I wish I did."

The words are hushed with such honesty that Derek stills. He knows exactly what Stiles means. Maybe if he hadn't seen so much blood in his life, nothing would have changed. Fainting at the sight of blood would be a blessing contrasting with what they're faced with constantly in a world of supernatural creatures and danger hiding in the dark.

Derek doesn't say anything, choosing instead to pour some vodka on the metallic recipient and disinfecting the equipment, then soaking the end of one of the towels with some more of it to clean Stiles' wound. He doesn't say anything when Stiles snatches the bottle from his hands and takes a swig either. The cut is deep enough that it'll need stitches, but Stiles had been adamant in not wanting to call anyone for this, not even Melissa. Anyone but Derek, that is.

Stiles gulps and straightens up when the alcohol burns the open flesh of his bicep, hissing through clenched teeth and muttering curse words that Derek wouldn't have caught if he wasn't a werewolf. When the thread is in the needle, Derek raises an eyebrow at Stiles in question and Stiles just nods silently in response and looks away, his hands in closed fists on his lap because of how anxious he actually is about this. He may not faint at the sight of blood anymore but it doesn't mean that's he's that much stronger in that department. It still makes him uneasy.

If Derek didn't need both his hands to stitch Stiles up, he'd reach out to him and offer some comfort. At least, he thinks so.

Okay, _he_ _knows_ so.

At least, it's what he feels like doing.

How Stiles would take it is another matter entirely.

It takes him a few minutes to close the wound and bandage it up. By the time he's finished, Stiles is eerily quiet.

"All done."

His voice seems to break whatever reverie Stiles was in. "Oh." Stiles examines his arm, how neatly the bandage is arranged over the cut. He nods curtly. "Thanks."

"What were you doing in this side of town anyway?" Derek asks nonchalantly as if he doesn't know the answer already, or thinks he knows, gathering all the items so that he can start cleaning his living room.

"I uh…" Stiles fidgets on his lap, refraining from touching the wound since it feels a little numb. "I thought I could stop by. No one else is in town."

"So you came here out of boredom?" Derek asks, furrowing his eyebrows to disguise his amusement.

"No!" Stiles gets up, helping Derek return the items to their rightful places and throwing the towels into the laundry basket. "Scott is still at UC Davis and Lydia at Stanford. They're only coming back next week, so…"

"So it's the first week of summer break and you're all by yourself back home. You were bored," Derek says pointedly.

"Okay, so maybe I was bored," he spurts out. "But-"

"You got mugged because you were bored."

Stiles scratches the back of his neck, flushing good-naturedly. "Don't remind me. Just… Please don't say anything to my dad. He's got plenty on his hands already and this is nothing. And Scott and Lydia too. No one really needs to know." If Lydia finds out about this, she's gonna kill him. This wasn't part of the plan.

"It wasn't nothing."

"I managed okay, right?" Stiles asks, trying to change the course of the conversation. "I mean, it was only a gash. Could have been worse, right?"

Derek shakes his head in disbelief. Stiles really doesn't seem to know how much he means to everyone from the pack sometimes. "Next time you run away from trouble, not into it. Not if you're alone."

Stiles' mouth falls open. "The guy wanted the keys to my Jeep. What was I supposed to do?!"

Stiles kept saying on their way to the loft that the robbery was about the vehicle in itself, because Roscoe is a gift from the gods on Earth. Derek is a 100% sure that it was because Stiles had his laptop on the backseat for everyone to see.

"Hand them to him and finally get rid of that piece of junk," Derek snorts, making his way to the fridge to find it almost empty.

"You know what? I'm regretting coming here already," Stiles decides. _Right_.

"Why did you, then?"

"I couldn't drive, obviously. And you were my only chance at not getting into more trouble, so I called you."

Derek leans against one of the counters, crossing his arms at his chest in defiance. "I meant _before_. Why did you want to come here in the first place?" Stiles ignores the best he can that he knows Derek heard his heart skip a beat just then.

It hadn't even been his idea, really. It had been Lydia's, but Derek already suspected as much anyway. It's not like the redhead had been shy about praising Stiles' prowess in bed, either regarding herself or the many other adventures Stiles has been living in college, with girls and boys alike, adventures that she keeps hearing about constantly from some of their classmates. College is a time for experimenting anyway, right?

Granted, she hadn't explicitly said that Stiles wants Derek but she had been blunt enough that the werewolf could take the hint. In the last two months alone, Derek can easily recall at least five occasions where Lydia would make a comment or leave the two of them alone to deal with their tension - god knows it's unbearable and the attraction, both ways, is more than obvious.

Still, until now, neither had made a move so Lydia took it upon herself to fix it, sending Stiles home early without her as she finishes her endless exams, promising him a summer of torture if he didn't go and meet Derek during the whole week they'll have by themselves in Beacon Hills.

Stiles takes Lydia's threats very seriously.

"Honestly, I'm not sure." And he isn't, because obviously there's something there but Stiles doesn't really know what to make of it, let alone the fact that Derek is a freaking werewolf. And even if Lydia swears on her life that this is mutual, that it isn't just something one-sided, Stiles isn't really feeling like having his throat ripped out unless he's sure this goes both ways.

Derek understands, though, mostly because Lydia had spent the best part of the last two days nagging his patience about how " _I should be studying but no. This is important, Derek, you have to listen to me. For the love of god, just do something about it!_ " followed by _"You know you want to_ " before she proceeded to explain lightly how Stiles feels about the situation. But then again Derek knows that a big part of her _concern_ is because Stiles is just wearing her off, and not in a way that pleases her. " _He'll be home soon and just… Just do something, Derek. I can't hear him talking about you all day anymore, it's maddening. You do something about it or so help me, I will._ "

Derek takes Lydia's threats very seriously as well.

Besides, she's a certified genius. He trusts that she knows what she's talking about. Derek surprises even himself. "Well, we have a week to find out."

Stiles gawks at him incredulous once again, his blood painting his cheeks so quickly that he's almost ashamed of it.

 _Almost_.

It's not like he can really control the way his body reacts in certain situations. "Lydia talked to you, didn't she?" Stiles doesn't even let Derek reply when he sees the hint of a smile. "I'm gonna kill her."

"You might want to wait until the end of the week for that. Who knows if you're gonna thank her…"

Stiles should have a comeback for that, he should! But then he's distracted with the way Derek slowly wanders around the loft to grab a mop, walking back to Stiles leisurely like most of their lives aren't spent running. It's absurd that Stiles doesn't have a comeback but he excuses it with being momentarily dazzled.

It's perfectly understandable, he thinks.

And then Derek is extending the mop to him and Stiles can't help but to frown at how Derek can frustratingly change the way he feels about him in an instant. "Go ahead and clean up your mess. I'll order something for dinner. You're paying."

"Bossy," Stiles mutters, trying to keep his heartrate steady at the prospect of having dinner with Derek, only Derek, and failing miserably.

"I heard you like it" is the only thing Derek replies with, and he has to laugh at the way he can almost feel the warmth emanating from Stiles' cheeks. Lydia can be fairly descriptive when she puts her mind to it.

He can only be thankful for the banshee, helping them out when they don't seem to be able to help themselves. He reminds himself of thanking her later. Her plan didn't pan out exactly as it should – he wasn't expecting Stiles to get hurt in the process in any way and he's sure Lydia didn't either - but if anything, Derek knows he's in for a week of fun, even if it means messing with Stiles in ways he hasn't been able to before. Not until now.

"Sourwolf," the human murmurs under his breath, pretending to ignore Derek's words as if they aren't true. _Right_.

Stiles doesn't see the smile on Derek's lips when the werewolf makes his way to the bedroom to find Stiles a shirt that isn't stained with blood, but he sure sees it when they both thank Lydia a week later.


	11. Drabble 11 - Stydia

**Drabble #11 – "I think it's about time we stop avoiding the obvious."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : General Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles _knows_ that Lydia is jealous, so he keeps pushing her.

 **A/N** : This is part 2 for Drabble #9 – written for Belle, kirughyukimura on tumblr. You might wanna reread it. Part 3 will be posted on December 4 for Zarish's birthday, stydiasroden on tumblr.

 **Dedication** : For Mariana, deepkissesandunexpectedhappiness on tumblr. Happy birthday, love!

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Lydia closes the front door on his face. It's a good thing that he has a spare key to let himself in.

"Lydia, I think it's about time we stop avoiding the obvious," he spurts out, frantically getting inside and closing the front door behind him, heading to her bedroom where he's sure Lydia went looking for hiding. Passing the kitchen, he notices her roommate there, in the middle of her midnight snack before returning to her study. "Oh. Hey, Iris."

"What happened now?" the girl asks, amused.

Stiles revels in the way that literally everyone on campus knows how he can easily work Lydia up. He beams. "I still think she's jealous. She obviously disagrees. I know _I'm right_." He shrugs his shoulders, chuckling. "The usual."

Iris laughs freely. It's been three weeks since Stiles and Lydia met with their friend Scott at UC Davis and the jealousy subject has been recurrent in Lydia and Iris' apartment since then. Before the girl can reply, a door slams hard down the hall. Stiles smirks at the banshee's reaction. "You might wanna go tease her a little more. She'll give in eventually," Iris offers confidently, taking a bite of her apple.

Stiles nods dutifully and smiles at her before making his way to Lydia's bedroom. As expected, her door is locked. "Lyds," he asks, knocking twice. "Please open the door."

He can almost hear the roll of her eyes. "No."

"Lydia-"

"I said no!"

Stiles huffs and lowers his tone of voice. _He knows_ she likes it.

Okay, so maybe Scott told him that Lydia's heart beats faster when he murmurs or whispers. Whatever.

"Lydia," he almost hums, "you know we don't lock our doors to each other." It's part of their agreement. Because Stiles' dorm is across campus, both of them have a copy of the other's house key in case something happens, and the bedroom doors should be unlocked at all times. If they are locked, the other is to assume that something is wrong. "So please, just open the door…"

She does so so quickly that Stiles startles. She must have been right behind the door. "What for? For you to keep up with this absurd-"

"It's not absurd if it's not a lie," he argues, taking a step forward and placing a hand on her door so she doesn't slam it on his face again. "Lydia, you're jealous. So what? It's not that big of a deal. Just…" He takes another step forward and Lydia takes one back defensively, not wanting to get too close to him. Being close to him clouds her judgement. She doesn't like that. "Just admit it," he murmurs, closing the door behind him. Iris will know whatever she has to know in time. He's sure she was listening in.

Though Scott would too, if he was there.

Lydia stomps her foot stubbornly. "I can't admit to something that-"

"That what? I can tell when you're lying, Lydia. Are you seriously gonna lie to my face?" he challenges, taking another step forward.

Lydia swallows dryly and tries to back away again, only to bump with the back of her knees on her mattress. Damn her small dorm room! "I- I uh…" She steps away from him, feeling her cheeks heat up as she makes her way to a corner of the bedroom where it isn't so crowded. When did it get so hot in there, anyway? She crosses her arms at her chest. "Maybe you should go."

"Lyds, I'm not leaving." Feeling bold, Stiles crosses the room until he's right in front of her, standing as close as he can without actually occupying the space she's in.

He blushes instantly at the proximity.

So does she. "Stiles-"

"You don't want to admit that you're jealous, fine. But I'm not going anywhere until you tell me something."

"What?!"

He smiles wickedly at her, a glint in his eyes that he reserves especially for her but tonight with a little malice in it.

Defiance.

She'd be lying if she said it didn't turn her on, more so when Stiles fucking dares to rest his forehead against hers and places his left hand on her waist.

This has never happened before.

Naturally, her breath catches in her throat.

"Tell me you don't want this," he whispers, his breath yet again grazing her lips like it did at the party three weeks before, his eyes boring into hers and keeping her breathless. "Tell me you don't want this," he repeats, bending down to drag the tip of his nose tauntingly across her jaw and down her neck, "and I'll leave right now." He breathes out against her collarbone and she shivers. He looks back up at her. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want this, and I'll be gone before you can ask me to leave. We'll pretend this never happened and I'll drop the subject, simple as that."

Lydia doesn't understand how her heart went from being practically paralyzed to almost wanting to rip out from her chest and escape for how quickly it's stammering all of a sudden. "S- Stiles…" She stutters, her voice betraying her. She sounded completely weak even to her ears.

"I don't want excuses. I don't want to know why that genius brain of yours thinks that this," he gestures between them, "is not gonna work. I just want the truth, Lydia. It's a simple yes or no question. Do you want this or not?"

It feels like this might just be the most important question he'll ever ask her in their life, and yet Lydia finds herself choosing the third option. There's a slimmer of playfulness in his stare that makes her believe he's just playing her. She goes with her instinct.

Pursing her lips, Lydia doesn't say a word.

He sees right through her, of course. "You know, I don't need you to actually speak. I've learned to read you years ago, Lydia. You should know that by now." She ignores the way her heart falters at just how true that is. "And you know what you're saying?" His lips brush hers. His lips actually brush hers and she can't help the way her eyes flutter closed for a second. " _Not no_."

Lydia sighs reflexively, and for a second Stiles thinks she's actually gonna kiss him.

In all honesty, so does she.

Instead, Lydia opens her eyes and leans back against the wall behind her, studying him. Stiles follows suit, both hands on her waist now, his body pressing against hers in a way that Lydia can only describe as agonizingly pleasing.

But god, she'll be damned if she's the one touching him!

He raises an eyebrow at her, far too amused for Lydia's liking. "Speechless, uh? It's _that_ serious?" Lydia only glares back. "I mean, _I know_ it's that serious…" She glares harder. It only makes him let out a laugh. "You're jealous all the time and, might I add, not only at parties anymore. There's no place we go where I don't see you get jealous…" he rambles.

It's true, though. Just hours before, Lydia had glared at a girl so hard, back when they were in the cafeteria and the girl approached them to talk to Stiles, that Stiles himself thought the girl would catch fire. Then again just before they came home, at the library where they were studying together, Lydia kept commenting how a group of three girls and a guy were drooling, and it wasn't over her. It's been constant, and Stiles has been pushing Lydia to admit that there's something there but she always brushes it off like it's nothing, like she can make this go away if she ignores it for long enough.

He'll be damned if he lets her.

"And…" he continues. "We've been arguing so much about it lately, Lydia, and not once," he points a finger at her, " _not once_ have you said you didn't want this, _us_ , to happen. You've said several times that you're not jealous and I just can't believe you, but I will let it slide because I haven't heard you say that you don't want me." Stiles takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "So here's what I'm gonna do."

She feels lightheaded because he fucking nailed it and he's gonna be the death of her one day, she just knows it. If there's someone who rivals Lydia Martin, it's Stiles Stilinski.

And she's fucking in love with him.

He looks around for a moment, scanning her bedroom before speaking. "I…" He walks away from her in a quick movement and Lydia misses his touch instantly. Stiles picks up the clothes he had left folded on top of her desk - his Spiderman pj that Lydia likes to see him on so much - and holds them close to his chest. " _I am_ gonna go," he says calmly, "and I'll give you some time to think about it. You look like you need it," he murmurs, stepping back and to her bedroom door.

Lydia pouts.

Lydia Martin actually pouts.

It's Stiles Stilinski's fault. "Wait. You don't have to-"

"It's okay," he tells her, offering the strawberry blonde a warm smile. "I'll just sleep at mine's tonight."

"But- But you always sleep here…"

He does. Whenever they study together, one will crash at the other's apartment so they can revise some more in the dead of night and fall asleep with one's head to the other's feet as they stare at the empty ceiling, just enjoying the other's company.

Those are the nights when Lydia sleeps best.

The thing is she doesn't want to admit to him that she's jealous. Hell, she doesn't want to admit it to herself, but this can't mess with their relationship.

 _Friendship_!

She meant friendship.

"Stiles, just… Just stay."

He chuckles.

Lydia is not sure whether that should make her more nervous or not.

"Lyds, I can read you like the back of my hand, alright? You obviously know how you feel, even if you're not ready to admit it yet. So I'm gonna do what I do best." Lydia fiddles with the hem of her shirt, waiting expectant for him to continue. "I'll let Lydia Martin take control of the situation." If she wasn't so anxious, she'd grin at him right then. He knows all of her and she loves all of him for it. "You're at a loss when you're not in control, so I'll do my part and give you time to figure out what you're gonna do." He takes a couple steps towards her. "I don't care if it takes you five minutes, an hour, a day or a week. And until then, whatever you decide, we'll just be us. Well, the usual us, anyway."

He leans down slowly, and this time the kiss on her cheek turns to a kiss on the corner of her lips. Lydia wishes he had lingered so she could return it.

He cups her cheeks. "You know where to find me." His thumbs brush her cheekbones softly. " _I'm ready whenever you are_."

And with that and an almost shy smile, he turns around and leaves and Lydia is left shell-shocked, her mind replaying his words countless times in such a short amount of time as she's barely breathing, the warmth of his eyes, _of him_ , teasingly haunting her.

It doesn't take her a week, a day, an hour or five minutes to react.

It takes her one after she hears the front door closing, and the next she knows she's moving.

 **A/N** : Please let me know what you think :)


	12. Drabble 12 - Stydia

**Drabble #12 – "Are you still awake?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : Lydia calls Allison to tell her the good news.

 **A/N** : This is somewhat short, but I didn't have much time to work on it unfortunately, so here's a little fluff :)

 **Dedication** : For Blake, TheFlashFanatic13 on . Happy birthday!

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"Are you still awake?"

Allison frowns, barely managing to lift her head off her pillow. "No, Lyds. I'm sleeping," she mutters sarcastically to her phone, voice laced with sleep. Checking the time, the brunette huffs. "Lydia, it's one in the morning." Fear hits her then, because even if the supernatural isn't out to get them as often as it did when they were teenagers, that feeling of insecurity never really goes away. "Did something happen?" she asks, sitting up on the bed and turning on her bedside lamp, noticing that Scott is not beside her.

"I guess so," the redhead murmurs lowly. "Nothing bad, though," she adds, aware of Allison's worried tone.

"What is it then? Can't it wait until the morning?"

Lydia should have kept it to herself for the time being, as she'd promised her boyfriend, and she's well aware of how little Ellie has been giving her parents night after night of insomnias, but this is too big, too indescribable, too out of this world not to share.

Lydia is not yet quite sure of how it happened.

"I'm so sorry, Allison. I just… I just need to tell you," she whispers.

"Why are you whispering?" Allison asks, getting up from the bed and starting to wander around her house to look for her husband.

"Because of Stiles. He isn't supposed to know I'm telling you. We'd promised to wait until the morning to tell you guys, but I just… I can't wait," she giggles.

When in her life has she become a woman who giggles because of Stiles Stilinski and his impulsiveness?

She doesn't know.

"What is it then?" Allison wonders, murmuring when she walks by her baby daughter's nursery and peeks inside to find her sleeping, then making her way downstairs.

Lydia doesn't waste any time. "Stiles and I were having sex-"

Allison interrupts her, snorting. "When are you not?"

Lydia chuckles. "Shh! We were having sex just an hour ago and I was riding him…"

"Need to know, Lydia. Need to know," Allison muses, hearing strange noises from her kitchen. Sounds like cheering to her.

"Oh my god, just let me finish!" Lydia admonishes. Allison quiets, smiling. "I was riding him and it was, honest to god, one of the best orgasms I ever had…"

"Do I really need to know this?"

"Allison!"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. Go on," she grins. It must be something surreal if Lydia is bragging about it at 1am on a week day.

"We were… In heaven, you know, blissed! And Stiles just…"

There's a moment of silence. "Just what?"

"He told me, and I quote, ' _I can't fucking wait to marry you_ '." He had looked completely love-struck when he said it and that's what did it for her. She had looked equally awed when she answered him.

Allison clasps a hand over her mouth in surprise. "He did?!" Everyone's been waiting on it for years.

Lydia nods happily. "Yes! And we know it was just something he let out in the heat of the moment, like wishful thinking, but it stuck with us. And after, when we were just lying in bed, I told him that I couldn't wait either."

Allison refrains the best she can to jump in excitement. "Oh my, god, _oh my god_! What happened next?"

"He turned on his side and grinned." Lydia is willing to bet that he's gonna be wearing that stupid, dorky, heartwarming grin when she walks down the aisle. "And then he asked me if I wanted to be Mrs. Martin-Stilinski."

Allison finds Scott in the kitchen, pacing back and forth enthusiastically, talking on the phone with his best friend, she's sure. "And what did you say?"

Scott notices his wife there and beams at her, completely thrilled. Lydia rolls her eyes. "I rode him again. What do you think?"

Allison laughs at that as she makes her way to Scott. He embraces her and kisses her forehead. "I think you should go see where Stiles is."

"What do you mean?" Lydia asks confused. She'd snuck into their guestroom so that Stiles wouldn't hear her when he told her he was gonna get a glass of water.

"He's totally ditching to Scott," she replies, nudging the Alpha so he puts it on speaker. "Hey, Stiles," Allison greets, and Lydia can hear her boyfriend – _her fiancé_ now - answering through the device.

She almost runs to find him, ignoring the teasing comments exchanged between the others because his proposal was anything but conventional. He's lying on the couch, laughing wholeheartedly at his friends and overjoyed, and Lydia can't help the smile that escapes her when she lays her eyes on him. "Found him," she tells Allison, hanging up and making her way towards Stiles, taking his phone from him and putting it on speaker as well. "We're engaged," she says happily, and Stiles kisses her cheek when she sits beside him and leans onto him.

He doesn't care that she caught him. He's almost positive he's never seen her smile this bright. "We're engaged," he repeats because it still feels too foreign on his tongue.

Not in his heart, though. Never in his heart.

He'd seen this coming for years, just not exactly like this.

"But did you actually propose, dude?" Scott asks, wanting to know more. "Like, getting down on one knee and offering her a ring and everything? We haven't looked at rings," he says confused, admitting that Stiles would take him to choose the perfect engagement ring for the girl of his dreams.

Or well, not just of his dreams anymore.

Stiles scratches his jaw but Lydia takes his hand away to kiss up his neck in appreciation. She knows he's nervous about it. "I didn't actually do it." He can almost hear Scott's jaw drop to the floor. "I wasn't really planning on proposing like that, okay?" Allison laughs while Scott doesn't say anything. Lydia… Lydia straddles Stiles and captures his lips in a searing kiss. When they part, he kisses the tip of her nose lovingly, making her blush. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he tells her, such an honest smile on his lips that Lydia kisses him again.

She doesn't remember ending the call with their best friends, doesn't remember finishing that conversation at all but it doesn't matter. And it doesn't matter because he does make it up to her, twice on the couch and then on the bed again, and the next night is spent among friends and family as they share the news with all of them and the ring his on her finger two weeks later, and she's Lydia Martin-Stilinski eight months after that.

 **A/N** : Please let me know what you think :)


	13. Drabble 13 - Stydia

**Drabble #13 – "Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they'd lock us up?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : General Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles is nervous on his first date with Lydia. He has no reason to be.

 **A/N** : I didn't have much time to work on it, but here's a little fluff :)

 **Dedication** : For Matisha, therisingalleria on tumblr. Happy birthday!

 **[IMPORTANT NOTE: PART 3 FOR DRABBLE #9 WILL BE POSTED ON FRIDAY BUT ONLY ON MY TUMBLR BECAUSE I'LL BE ATTENDING A TW CONVENTION THE NEXT FEW DAYS, SO KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE UPDATE. I'LL ONLY POST ON AO3, FF AND WATTPAD WHEN IM BACK HOME NEXT WEEK, BY TUESDAY. I'M YOU-MAKE-ME-WANDER OVER THERE.]**

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"Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they'd lock us up?"

Lydia chokes on the orange juice she was drinking, and it's just good fortune that she doesn't end up spitting it to his face. "What?!" she asks, sending Stiles a puzzled stare.

He blushes despite himself. "I uh- I was just wondering if people ever hear us when we're talking about the sup-"

"I know what you meant," she hisses, hoping he drops the subject before someone realizes what he was trying to say, a hint of amusement crossing her features nonetheless. Leave it to Stiles to be a nerve wreck when he finally, after so freaking long, scored a date with the banshee of his dreams. "Is that seriously the first thing you're saying to me on our first date? Really?" she teases, and even if she's trying to make it seem playful, she can't help but to be a little nervous too.

"I… I don't know. I was just wondering…" he trails off, looking down at his napkin to avoid her eyes.

Like she'd ever let him get away with it. "We should start from the beginning," she decides rather than continuing a conversation that, she's sure, would be 90% babbling. "You didn't even compliment me, Stiles, and I was so stunned that you didn't that I ended up not saying it back."

She's a little miffed about it, in all honesty, because he's looking incredibly easy on the eyes tonight and especially for her, no less, but she was so dumbstruck when the only thing he said to her when he picked her up was " _Come on, we're gonna miss the reservation_ " because they were already late that she just didn't say anything. It didn't help much that he kept silent the whole ride there, and barely exchanged any words while they ordered.

At the moment they already have their drinks and a few appetizers and are waiting for their food to be delivered to them and Stiles lets out _that_.

They're off to a great start.

When he proceeds with nothing, Lydia helps. "I'm sure the words you're looking for are _You look lovely tonight, Lydia_ ," she teases with a smile.

"Well, yeah…" He's so thankful that she knows how to do this. He sure doesn't.

Okay, he does. He just can't remember what he's supposed to do.

Not his fault.

Lydia Martin said _yes_.

It's bound to leave a guy nervous. "You look lovely tonight. But you always look beautiful to me, no matter what you're wearing."

Is it okay that she swoons?

She wants to.

The grin she gives Stiles warms him up in ways he never thought possible. "You sure know what to say to flatter a girl," she lets out, her cheeks reddening at his compliment.

"It's not new. You've always known that."

She reaches for his hand over the table, her fingers brushing his, her gaze solely on their hands. "In a way, I really think I have."

Stiles holds her hand, sitting straighter on his chair and clearing his throat. Lydia reciprocates easily, offering him an almost shy smile. "I uh- I'm sorry that this isn't going as it should. I'm really nervous."

She knows.

He hasn't stopped stomping his foot ever since they arrived to the restaurant almost fifteen minutes ago. "Who said it isn't going as it should?"

"I don't know, I just-"

"None of that," she interrupts. "It's going fine. It'll get better."

He frowns out of habit. "You're feeling optimistic today…"

She beams. "I am. It's not every day that one gets a date with Stiles Stilinski, now is it?" she teases.

"What?" he chuckles.

She raises an eyebrow, amused. "What? You thought you were the only one who wanted a date? Because if so, you're dead wrong."

He glares at her defiantly, trying to decode if she's just playing him or being honest, and he gets true playfulness. Lydia Martin in a nutshell.

God, he loves her. "I'm always wrong in comparison to a certified genius like yourself."

Lydia clicks her tongue, tilting her head before sipping on her drink again. "Not at all. See? You got that right."

Stiles winks and Lydia blushes, a grin forming on her lips easily. "You're rubbing off on me."

"Good" it's all she says and there's a glint of mischief in her eyes, like she's telling him there will be more, for sure, sometime soon.

 _Good_.

"And you look really good tonight, by the way."

It's his time to blush, chuckling nervously. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

His words come out a little sadder than Lydia would like. She doesn't hesitate in entwining their fingers together. "We are. We will be."

"How can you be sure?"

"How can you not?"

"Sometimes, I… I feel like we're living in borrowed time, and that eventually life will set us all up, _again_ , and it's like… When good things happen, it's hard to believe they're real, you know?"

Lydia lets out a breath in understanding. "I know. But I want to live in the moment," she tells him, resolute. "And right now I want us to forget about everything else and just have dinner, take a walk in the park and then take you home."

He hesitates for a brief second before lifting her hand to place a soft kiss on her knuckles, smiling at her, his eyes sparkling. "Thank you."

It's ridiculous that such an innocent gesture makes her insides clench. "For saying I'll take you home?" she jokes, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"No!" he mocks playfully. "For wanting this to be a normal night. We don't have many of those."

"No, we don't. So lets try our best not to be nervous about this and screw this up. We know each other. We're friends. We're gonna have a nice dinner, split the bill…" Stiles opens his mouth to interject but Lydia just glares at him, continuing in a lowered tone of voice. "… You'll take me to the park and we'll sit on a bench or by the fountain and just look up at the stars for a little while and we'll kiss. Or maybe we'll just kiss when you drop me home or when you pretend to leave even though I sure as hell will not let you. We'll definitely kiss." Stiles leans back on his chair, amused. "I'll make sure to persuade you to stay the night and you'll probably pretend you don't want to. I'll win you over because you need to see how soft my sheets are. It's insane, Stiles, and you haven't yet so you'll really have to stay with me. And in the morning we're totally gonna cook breakfast together-"

"You really have it all figured out, haven't you?"

She nods dutifully. "Yes, I do. And you'd better not mess with my plan," she warns teasingly.

He crosses his heart. "I'd never dare."

They have an amazing dinner after that, a better walk in the park when Stiles decides to surprise her and kiss Lydia as soon as they cross the gates. They sit by the fountain and make a wish as Lydia tells him what constellations she knows off and Stiles listens attentively, dazzled because Lydia is leaning into him and ends up shivering from the light breeze that can be felt on that summer night.

It's a good enough excuse for Stiles to have an arm wrapped around her for the rest of the night, and all cold vanishes when they reach her bedroom an hour later and Stiles finds out that indeed her sheets are absolutely amazing, and when they fall asleep, naked and still breathing heavy and their minds fuzzy like if they are intoxicated, neither has nightmares.

Stiles decides to ask her his opening question again in the morning just because he's Stiles and _he can_ , when she's still groggy and looking like a goddamn angel that ended up falling on his arms out of chance, a halo of strawberry blonde hair illuminating the room when the sun hits her mane, and Lydia only mumbles a " _Shut up_ " pats his cheek sleepily, turning away from him and nuzzling against her pillow more, and that's how Stiles finds out that Lydia is not a morning person, but he doesn't mind much.

He wakes her up just fine.


	14. Chapter 14 - Stydia

**Drabble #14 – "I** _ **am not**_ **jealous."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles and Lydia figure it out.

 **A/N** : Part 3 of Drabble #9. You might wanna re-read parts 1 and 2.

Like I'd warned, I posted it on tumblr on the 4th for Zarish's birthday, and I'm only posting it here now because I was away at House of Wolves con. And on that note, if you're not in on the latest Stydia news, you might wanna go check out my tumblr ㈴1

 **Dedication** : For Zarish, stydiasroden on tumblr. Happy birthday!

xxxxxxxxxx

"I am not jealous."

Stiles startles at the unexpected sound of her voice, the towel he was just wrapping around his waist almost slipping off of his fingers. He was not counting on Lydia to go find him so soon, certainly not since it's only been an hour since he left her and it's already past 1am.

He turns around to find the strawberry blonde by his bedroom door, her pillow held tight against her chest, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail the way he knows it always is before she goes to bed and she's dressed in her favorite, most comfortable pj.

Seems like she intends on sleeping at his dorm tonight.

Eyes wide, she poorly disguises the way her sight wanders over his body, from the towel that is hanging low on his hips to his bare chest, to the way his wet hair seems even darker than usual.

He was not supposed to be looking this hot right now, even if Lydia already knows his rituals by heart and was almost positive that he'd be just getting out of the shower by the time she'd reach his room. It still doesn't make it any easier for her to swallow the lump in her throat and try her best not to melt on the spot.

It sure does make her feel hot all of a sudden, though.

She closes his bedroom door behind her, and is about to put her pillow on top of his comforter when he speaks.

"You know what? The fact that we don't lock our doors to each other doesn't mean that we shouldn't knock, Lydia," he chastises playfully.

She barely manages to let out a low "Sorry" before her pillow falls from her arms and he continues.

(She's so not sorry, though…)

"But are you even serious right now? You came all the way across campus on your pjs to tell me that you're not jealous? Really?! That's a little too much, even for you, Lyds," he tells her, chuckling at the banshee's initiative.

Stiles rummages through some of his drawers to find clean clothes, putting on new boxers underneath the towel after turning his back to Lydia. He doesn't see the way blood creeps up her cheeks and neck, but he sure notices how worked up she is on her unsteady voice when she replies.

"I uh-"

Her mouth goes dry inexplicably.

 _Inexplicably_ , yes…

Lydia clears her throat. "I- I wasn't finished."

Stiles discards the towel and glances at the redhead over his shoulder. "Alright." He smirks deviously. "Start from the beginning then," he defies, pacing around the room to find his comb and then returning to where he was before, taking his time to pull on a pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt, letting Lydia enjoy the show as she all but gawks, speechless for a moment as he wanders around only in his boxers.

Decency hits her only when he's already dressed and makes his way to his tiny bathroom to comb his unruly hair in front of the mirror - to no avail, like always -, but it's not until he smiles at her from the mirror that Lydia realizes that she's been staring.

She can't help but to blush further.

"I- I had a speech, you know?" she tells him, frustrated. "You're making me nervous."

Stiles smiles softly at her admission. It's not every day that Lydia admits that someone makes her nervous and it only means that she's taking this seriously.

 _Good_.

He gestures for her to sit on his bed and wait for him as he brushes his teeth. When he's all done, he wordlessly sits beside her on the mattress, a little closer than he usually does.

Neither comments on that.

"I am not jealous," she murmurs, glancing at him almost shyly. "Or at least that's what I keep telling myself."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" she asks, a bit exasperatedly in his opinion.

"I don't know, Lydia. I gave you full control of the situation. Just… Say what you gotta say and do what you gotta do."

"Well, that's helpful…"

Stiles all but smiles and stares, leaving her to get into bed instead, playing his part. It's her turn to make a move now. He gets to pull back the covers, hide under them and snuggle before Lydia takes an intake of breath. "You're welcome to join me whenever" it's all he murmurs.

"Why are you suddenly so open about this?" she blurts out, standing up. "Aren't we okay like this?"

"We are okay, Lydia, but I want more. I'm allowed to want more and I know you do too. You do, Lydia…" he adds when she glares. "Why is it so hard for you to admit that you want the same?"

"Because things would change, Stiles," she huffs. "You know what changes?"

"What?" he asks, frowning when her features turn to more apprehensive ones.

"I can lose you," she murmurs, looking away from him as her fingers fidget on her lap. Her mind runs a mile a second as it wanders over countless possibilities and ways that this can play out, that this can work.

Can she make it work?

Can _they_?

It takes her two full minutes to stand up and lock his bedroom door. Stiles refrains from commenting on that.

She lets out everything as quickly as she possibly can, afraid she'll regret it. "It opens the possibility of me losing you and I can't have that. I don't care if it's selfish, I just… I can't afford to let it happen. I lost too many people already."

Lydia looks down sadly and Stiles can't help but to take a deep breath for himself because he knows all too well how all of them have lost too much. He can't exactly say that he doesn't understand because, in truth, he does.

Before he can say anything, though, Lydia continues. "I keep telling myself that I'm not jealous because from the moment I do, it all changes. I'm trying my best to make myself believe that this can never work, because if we just… Try… I can't even think about the idea of losing you, Stiles. You're my best friend, we're as close as I've ever been with anyone and it's really important to me that you're by my side. I just… I want to- God, I want you, Stiles, but I don't know what to do."

"Why did you come here then?" he asks, completely uncertain of what happens next.

"You gave me the choice to be in control of this decision. I don't want that. I'm here so we can figure it out together. It's what we do best, right?"

Stiles tries – not that hard, honestly – not to beam but he does, and Lydia can't help but to smile too when he just waves a hand at her to get into bed. If it's something they're good at is at solving pretty much anything when they're lying down, half-asleep and half-awake in between either's sheets, sometimes discussing college, sometimes the supernatural, sometimes life in general.

It's become a habit to them and if that's not gonna solve whatever their relationship is to be, nothing else will.

She's about to walk to one of the walls to turn off the lights when he speaks, barely a hum. "Nothing changes."

"What?"

"Nothing changes", he repeats nonchalantly.

"Stiles, you can't say that. You don't kn-"

"Literally nothing has to change, Lyds, except for the fact that I get to fall asleep with you and wake up with you and finally get to date you. I'll get to kiss you and bicker with you-" He rolls his eyes when she glares at him, _again_. "Well, more. I want that. I want all of it-"

"But we already have it, Stiles," she interjects, nevertheless turning off the lights and slowly – so, so slowly – making her way to the bed. "We cuddle all the time, we sleep over at the other's apartment quite often, most of our free time is spent together and I've… I've trusted you with things that I haven't really trusted anyone before, and you've done the same thing. We just don't…"

"Actually date," he finishes for her. "What do you think I'm trying to tell you?" She stops right at the edge of the bed, a knee on top of the mattress as she hesitates, Stiles can tell even though he can't see her. "Lydia, we were friends first. Well actually, we went from two people who didn't know each other at all to acquaintances to friends to incredibly close friends. Sure, we had some bumps along the way but that's normal. That's just life and we've gone through it and now we're here."

"And we're arguing," she quips.

He frowns. "We're not arguing."

"We sort of are."

"We were. Or actually, we we're just being _us_. We were bantering, not arguing."

It takes her a few seconds to reply. "Good."

"Good what?"

"That we're not arguing."

"Why?"

She replies by getting under the covers, lying on her side and mirroring him. "I wouldn't want to start a relationship like that."

It's like her words echo through the room and they can only stare at the other, waiting.

"Tell me nothing changes," she murmurs.

"Some things do change, but I don't think that's bad. What matters won't change, I can promise you that much."

It takes her half a second to decide on what to do, and before she knows it her fingers are cradling his jaw and pulling him in. Her movements are deliberate, slow, and she holds her breath when her lips touch his. It's a soft kiss, more comforting than anything else and Stiles lets her have her way for now, his fingers reaching for hers when they part.

He knows she loves him and that she knows he loves her.

They'll have time to make out properly eventually.

"What now?" she asks with an almost shy smile.

"Now we sleep," he tells her, wrapping an arm around her waist when Lydia turns to face away and they spoon. "We still have class in the morning, remember?"

She wishes they didn't. He feels too warm against her and it's making her thoughts divert from what just happened to what will, eventually.

Certainly.

 _Soon_ , hopefully.

They're almost drifting off when Lydia murmurs playfully, thinking he wouldn't remember it the next morning – which he does -, that "I actually was jealous."

The teasing that ensues because of that when they wake up makes them miss their morning classes.

At least, they're not sexually frustrated anymore.


	15. Drabble 15 - Stydia

**Drabble #15 – "You are completely unfit to handle a child."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : General Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles decides that babysitting is a great way to make some easy money to help his dad pay their bills. Lydia tags along to make sure everything turns out okay.

 **Tags** : Humor, Fluff, Established relationship, Babysitting

 **A/N** : This is just a little fluff. Stydia with kids it's always a must.

 **Dedication** : For Emily, toofarforward on tumblr. Happy birthday, honey!

xxxxxxxxxx

"You are completely unfit to handle a child," Lydia teases with a smile, closing the Stilinskis' front door behind her and making her way to the living room, where Stiles is sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table, legs crossed under him and completely entertained with the two kids he's babysitting, colorful pens on the table and on the floor and on his lap… Everywhere around him, really.

Stiles frowns at her comment, the blue pen he had in his mouth falling to the coffee table making the five year old beside him chuckle at Stiles' facial expression. "Why?"

Lydia has a snarky comeback on the tip of her tongue, but before she can say it she rushes to his side, worried. "Stiles!"

He startles and follows Lydia's line of sight immediately at her concerned tone, turning back to find the one year old wanting to get out of the couch by himself. Stiles catches him in time, already used to it. "Come here, big guy. Where did you think you were going, uh?" he muses, sitting the baby boy on his lap. "He's been doing this all afternoon, Lyds, I've got it covered."

"Oh, you do?" she asks, raising an eyebrow and sitting on the couch beside Stiles, her knee bumping against his shoulder playfully as she bends over to make a silly face at the baby.

Stiles takes advantage of her being so close to him to steal a kiss on her cheek. "Hi."

Lydia pecks his lips quickly in return. "Hi."

"So…Unfit to handle a child, you say? Why would you ever think that?"

The goofy grin on Stiles' face ends up making her laugh. The five year old laughs along with her. "He almost fell," she tells her boyfriend pointedly even if it's not what she'd meant at first, picking up the baby from Stiles to sit him on her lap instead.

"I got distracted for like a second," Stiles mutters. "It was your fault, you distracted me."

The baby starts playing with Lydia's hair right away, grabbing at her fiery curls and trying to put them in his mouth. "Lets pretend that that was it," she says jokingly. "And who's this little guy?"

"That's Max," Stiles says after sticking out his tongue at the other kid, who was trying to rob the red pen from him. The kid laughs and steals it anyway. "He's the devil's brother. This is Damian, he's the devil," Stiles chuckles.

He points at his art companion and the kid slaps Stiles' arm playfully, pouting, blushing when Lydia turns her attention to him. " _I am not_."

"Oh, I believe you," she tells Damian. "My name is Lydia. Stiles can be a little annoying sometimes, right? I'm sure you're an angel."

It's Damian's turn to stick his tongue out at Stiles. "See?"

Stiles looks at his girlfriend incredulous, feigning shock to amuse the little one. "I- I can't believe you."

"I can't believe _you_. Stiles, I thought we'd agreed on keeping everything relatively tidied."

They did.

It's the summer before their third year at Stanford, and ever since they started college, Stiles has taken upon himself to babysit every time they have bigger breaks and come home to visit their families as a way of helping his dad with the bills.

Turns out neither the Sheriff nor Lydia (who Stiles has been dating since the end of senior year of high school) trust him that much around children for long periods of time, let alone unsupervised, so Lydia usually stops by to make sure that a catastrophe doesn't happen.

(They don't talk much about the time when Stiles was so distracted by Lydia when she had showed up at the neighborhood playground that he almost left with her and forgot about Tea, the little girl he was babysitting then.

Or the time when he was doing clay with the seven year old twins and clay was pretty much everywhere when she got home with the Sheriff after they'd picked up dinner for everyone and those are just two of the reasons why they have rules now. Stiles babysits but things have to be, at the very least, tidied and controlled and clean.

Lydia is at fault, really, always. At least that's how he sees it.

It's not his fault that he's dating a goddess and that she has this innate talent to show up exactly when she shouldn't.)

"Well, it's not so bad today," he complains. "It's just pens. Everything else is where it's supposed to. Even the little devil here helped me put away the toys before we had lunch," Stiles says, patting the young boy on the shoulder.

Damian beams proudly and Lydia mirrors him, running her free hand through Stiles' hair out of habit. "See, Stiles? Damian can behave."

The boy chuckles, Stiles frowns. "Whose side are you on?" Before Lydia can answer, Max starts kicking off his feet and stirring, trying to get to the floor. "Oh, put him down," Stiles exclaims enthusiastically. "Mrs. Turner said we should encourage him to walk a little more for practice."

"Practice for what?" Lydia asks teasingly.

It doesn't escape Stiles how she blushes, and boy does he feel butterflies in his stomach.

They've been together for two years already, and things between them are as good and healthy as having a romantic relationship with their best friend can be. Sure they bicker and nag at each other and argue just a little too much but that's _them_ , and Stiles couldn't honestly be happier.

They moved in together in their first year at college. It didn't make sense that they were both attending the same university and dating and living apart. Saving money for the future was untouched subject at first but soon came around, especially when an inconvenience forbid them of coming home for their first Christmas and they got to spend it by themselves.

Ever since then, the fact that their future lies with the other is just an admission of what they know to be the truth, not much of a dream anymore, and so plans for the future are made from time to time. They've discussed lightly a proposal after they're finished with college, then Lydia getting her Fields Medal, only after that kids. Children is not a subject they discuss often at all but sometimes, mostly in jest, both express their desire of having a child eventually.

He can't seriously wait for it, though, even if he's just twenty. He's been waiting for so long to have his life with Lydia now.

"For Max to practice walking, not for us to practice swooning over him practicing walking, obviously," he replies cheekily, gaining another peck before Lydia gets up to put the toddler down, holding his hands at first for him not to fall.

"Ohhhh."

Both Lydia and Stiles turn to face Damian, who's looking at both of them surprised. "What's wrong, honey?" Lydia asks sweetly.

"You kissed," the boy murmurs, putting his little hand over his mouth for good measure since he'd missed the first kiss because he was coloring his book.

Stiles blushes despite himself. "Well, Lydia is my girlfriend so I get to kiss her."

"Like mommy and daddy?" the boy asks, curious.

Lydia starts walking with Max slowly, only one of her hands on his now. "Something like that, yes," she answers.

"Are you married?"

Stiles chuckles. "Not yet, buddy. But someday."

The looks Stiles shares with Lydia makes her want to kiss him senseless. She grins. "Yeah, someday."

"Can I go to your wedding?"

Stiles tries his best not to comment on how Damian hasn't stopped asking questions all afternoon. "I don't know. If you behave, maybe."

The boy ponders about it some, choosing a different color to continue his work of art. "She's really pretty," he tells Stiles, his eyes on the paper as Stiles raises his eyebrows suggestively at Lydia.

"She's the prettiest. But I have dibs."

"Why, thank you," Lydia chuckles freely, stopping a few feet away from Stiles and getting down on her knees behind little Max, who's maintaining his balance on his own, Lydia's hand on his waist ghostly just in case. "You think he'll come over to you?" she asks her boyfriend, eager to try it.

She and Stiles around children always ends up with them having some parenting experience of some sort and she can't shake away the feeling that someday, eventually, they'll get to have it with their own kids and dammit, she can't lie, she can't wait for that.

"I think so. I let him wander around a bit when Damian was napping and it went fine."

"Wanna try it?"

It's the hope he sees in her eyes that has him nodding. "Yeah, come on." Stiles kneels too and turns to face Max, his attention briefly on Damian. "Tell you what, you little devil. If Max walks all the way over to me, I'll let you have cookies for dessert. How does that sound?"

Damian claps his hands excitedly, eyes wide. "Cookies!"

"You need to help me call Max then, alright?" The boy nods solemnly. "Okay, Lyds. We're ready."

Lydia purses her lips in a smile before giving in to a full grin, kissing the baby's temple before holding one of his hands and encourage him to start walking. "Come on, Max, lets go."

"Come here, buddy," Stiles incites, reaching his arms to make sure that the baby moves in his direction.

Max seems unsure at first, turning back to look at Lydia and putting his fingers in his mouth, but then he turns around to the excited calls of both Stiles and Damian and he starts walking their way, unsteady steps and swaying a bit but he goes, and Lydia is crawling behind him completely thrilled.

He reaches Stiles soon enough – he wasn't that far at all, really – and Stiles scoops him up in his arms and then holds him high, making the toddler let out a delicious baby giggle that has Stiles and Lydia laughing all too enthusiastically, and these are the moments Lydia thinks about when the supernatural decides to knock on their door and make their lives a living hell again, the moments when they get to be freely, truly happy over such small things like babysitting someone else's kids.

"Do I get cookies?"

"You sure get cookies," Stiles tells Damian. "Max did great," he whispers, sitting the toddler on his lap again and tickling him.

Lydia sits on the floor beside Stiles, one of her hands around his waist and the other playing with Max's little feet. "He really did. And you're doing great too, Damian. I love your drawing," she praises. "Would you let me color with you?"

The boy nods all too eagerly for having her attention and pushes his book over to her. "You can have the blue. I don't want it anymore," he says, bending over the coffee table to get yet another pen after Lydia accepts the blue one.

She starts coloring the tail of a mermaid. It's only fitting.

"Blue is pretty," Stiles whispers just for her to hear, and Lydia gives in to a knowing smile. "You're pretty," he mumbles, kissing just below her ear inconspicuously.

Lydia glances at him, adoration in her eyes. " _You_ 're pretty."

Stiles kisses her this time.

This is why every single kid he babysits ends up telling their parents that Stiles is _too lame_ but that's he's okay. Apparently, he's _cool_ when he babysits and the kids want more of it and he's funny when he's with Lydia because he gets embarrassed because of her sometimes. Stiles can't exactly say he dislikes it hearing it.

If it gives him the opportunity of having such a happy escape from their running-for-our-lives routine and he has Lydia to share the experience with, he can totally live with that.


	16. Drabble 16 - NogiKira

**Drabble #16 – "Do you need me to kill someone for you?"**

 **Pairing** : Nogitsune/Kira

 **Rating** : General Audiences

 **Summary** : Jirou has some trouble learning how to be social again, but Kira doesn't mind much.

 **Tags** : Humor, Fluff

 **A/N** : Not Stydia this time, guys (although they're mentioned).

Things you need to know about this drabble? It's inspired on this fic by the birthday girl (look it up, she's Ailuk and the fic is called "Chaos never left") and Jirou is Nogi!Stiles after our Stiles literally materialized from the floor. Remember at the end of S3 when there were 2 Stiles? Yeah.

She named Nogi!Stiles Jirou and I'm borrowing the character from her, and she asked for a drabble for Nogi/Kira, so here's a little fluff.

Please admit that Nogi!Stiles never died and that the pack had to use him against a new supernatural threat. Devoid of his malicious powers, he's now on their side. Sort of. Well, getting there.

Because Kira and Nogi!Stiles are both foxes, the attraction is inevitable and things get going from there. They're spending some time together, getting to know each other.

(Again, kudos to Ailuk's amazing fic. You should totally give it a read if you're in for some Nogi!Stiles).

 **Dedication** : For the lovely ailuk on tumblr , one of the first mutuals I started talking to here on tumblr. Happy birthday, sweetie!

xxxxxxxxxx

"Do you need me to kill someone for you?" he asks nonchalantly as they wander around the mall, two towns away from Beacon Hills not to raise suspicions because of Stiles, of course.

(Stiles is better, thankfully, and that means he finally gets to get out of the house every once in a while but for him to be able to do so, Jirou has to stay put, otherwise chaos would ensue for sure. Going out of town for one afternoon seemed like a good option too.)

"Jirou!" Kira exclaims playfully, mostly in surprise, still a little unused to his way of being _him_.

(It's not like she meets spirits that are a thousand years old often, specially not ones that turn from bad to good. Or well, as good as they can ever be.)

He snickers at her reaction, giving in to a smirk that makes Kira blush hard.

She's still not used to that either.

"Bad habit, sorry."

Neither is too acquainted with this new side of him, not just yet, even if he's been around for over two months now. It's been lagging enough – understandably - to accept that he's Jirou and not Stiles, so so different than Stiles and that this new side of him is here to stay.

And so is him.

"But do you?" he repeats teasingly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "I noticed that you seem frustrated about something and I'll let you know that I'm very good at taking care-"

"You _noticed_?" she interrupts amused, already knowing the answer.

"Okay, I smelled it," he admits, looking down in embarrassment because it's not like he's used to this. He hasn't had to apologize this often for years. "I'm sorry. It's just habit, I can't help it. I'm still not good at separating what's okay for me to do and what's not. It's just… It's hard for me to be this social, let alone polite and all that. It's been literally centuries since I cared to do something like this."

They walk in silence for a few seconds. It's not every day that a (former evil) fox spirit lets show that he's more human than he would ever like to admit, and Kira is not exactly the most social of the bunch either.

"It's okay," she eventually murmurs. "I get it." She gives him a small smile that he returns. "And I am frustrated, you're right. Mrs. Norris has been really hard on me lately."

"That's the math teacher, right?"

He's still learning more about the daily life of the members of the pack, and even if at first it seemed boring, Jirou finds himself all too invested at times, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yeah. I haven't been sleeping much lately because of the new pack that's around and when it's time to study, I can't focus because I'm sleepy so-"

"Are you scared?" Kira chances a glance at him, apprehensive. "Of the other pack, I mean?"

"Yeah, I guess." She shakes her head. "I mean, the others were around when the Alpha pack was in town, not me. I only met the twins, so I'm not as relaxed as they are about it."

"You're worried." Kira nods silently, pursing her lips. "No one's gonna harm you. I'll protect you if it ever comes to that."

Kira stops on her tracks, turning to face him completely.

Yes, they're both foxes. And yes, she can't help but to be attracted to him in a way she can't exactly comprehend.

(It's her fox spirit.)

Ever since day one he has tried helping Kira get ahold of her powers and teach her more about her heritage since her mother refuses to, and even if at first Kira had been reticent (he wasn't just a bad guy, he was The bad guy), she couldn't help but to get to know him more in time. His life story is truly fascinating (only to her, apparently, since she got weird looks from pretty much everyone from the pack when she let it slip out once, so she hasn't said anything about it anymore) and she just has this _need_ of finding out more about him.

It's something she can't help and, in all truth, neither can he.

He's told her from the beginning about her aura, about how her fox spirit seems to have connected with his and Kira had been seriously the most skeptic about it at the time.

She's starting to believe it now.

"Thank you" is all she replies with, abashed. Her cheeks must be shamefully pink right now.

He starts walking again, trying to distract her from her wandering thoughts. "Maybe you should ask Lydia to lend you her notes. She's the genius, right?"

"If she ever leaves Stiles' side," she chuckles.

"What's up with those two anyway?"

"It's complicated."

Jirou smirks.

 _Again_.

Kira's breath hitches even if his devious smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. She notices, of course, but she's not exactly sure if he has any idea of just how freaking hot he looks when he does that.

(Not that she's noticing, _obviously_.)

"Isn't it always?"

It takes her a moment to answer because she knows, she feels like there's something here but she's not sure how to act on it. "It doesn't really have to be. We uh-" She pauses, noticing the – almost, dare she say – hopeful glance he sends her way. "We already have a lot of complicated things going on in our lives. Love shouldn't have to be one of them."

"And alas, it is," he lets out with a sigh, lowering his head distractedly.

Kira bites on her bottom lip briefly before answering, a small smile on her features because, dear god, he looks like a kicked puppy.

(The impression she has – from her fox spirit more than from her own intuition, she guesses – is that he doesn't think he's worthy of it. She has recently decided that she doesn't want him to think that.)

"Jirou, you changed. You're still changing, we all are. Maybe this isn't exactly what you had in mind for how you wanted to spend this decade, but maybe it's how it was supposed to be all along," she chuckles. He's the one stopping this time, considering her words. "We can't afford to think much ahead, so just… Live in the moment."

He never though some time away because Kira had had a free afternoon would become the first time they brush hands and then hold, but in truth neither did she.

But why wait, right? He's already a thousand years old, it's not like he's getting any younger.

The fact that Kira kisses his cheek when they part ways for the night is just an added bonus.

Live in the moment…

Yeah, he goes with that.


	17. Drabble 17 - Stydia

**Drabble #17 – "Are you wearing my shirt?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : General Audiences

 **Summary** : Lydia wears Stiles' lacrosse jersey in public for the first time.

 **Tags** : Humor, Fluff, Established relationship

 **A/N** : Have some just established relationship with a bit of flirting and fluff. Assume that this is right at the end of senior year.

 **Dedication** : For Cynthia, lunaxgoddess on tumblr. Happy birthday, sweetie!

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"Are you wearing my shirt?"

His tone is hopeful, playful, and Lydia rolls her eyes despite the smile that tugs at her lips, putting her phone on speaker so that she can move freely around her bedroom as she finishes getting ready, placing the device on her vanity before combing her hair. "For the hundredth time this week, yes, Stiles. I'll wear your shirt. I promised I would, didn't I?"

She can practically hear the smug smile he's wearing on the other line. "But that's not what I asked, now is it?"

Lydia huffs in feigned annoyance, knowing that her (very, _very_ recent) boyfriend is over the top with the fact that she wanted to do this for him. "Okay, so maybe _I am_ wearing your shirt right now…"

She's pretty sure he pumps his fist in the hair. "I knew it!"

"It's not a big deal, Stil-"

"Of course it is. It's still three hours until the game and you're already wearing my shirt. You just couldn't wait, could you?"

Why is she dating him again? "You know I like wearing your jersey, it's not like I hide it. And this is technically _my_ jersey, I was the one who had it made for me-"

"If it's says _Stilinski 24_ on the back, it's not."

Lydia checks herself (and okay, _his_ shirt too) in the mirror, smiling and starting to braid her hair to the side. "I think you lost track of time again," she teases. "The game is in less than two hours, not three like you said," she tells him, trying to divert the subject.

There's a loud thump on the other line and a curse muttered, and she can only believe that Stiles most likely tripped over something to get to his laptop to check the time and see if his girlfriend is right. "Ah, shit. Scott should be here any minute now."

Lydia laughs at his clumsiness. "That's what you get for being smug."

"Shut up, you love it," he murmurs, gathering his gear if all the noise Lydia can hear in the background is any indication.

"I'm pretty sure I don't," she teases, applying just a little bit of lipstick and smacking her lips together.

She knows what's coming even before he says it. "Funny. That's not what you said last night."

She can't help the giggle that escapes her. "Now, now. If you're not careful, you're not getting any anytime soon, Stiles," she says jokingly.

"Like you could go a day without this," he retorts.

She's pretty sure he's grinning. Dammit.

Lydia bends down to put on her heels. "You're too smug for your own good, Stiles."

"I'm too _good_ for my own good, Lyds, and for yours as well."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "We'll see about that later. Go on, Coach will kill you if you're not there in time for warm ups. It's your last game, Stiles."

"I know," he sighs. There's a moment of silence before he continues. "And you'll be there."

"Cheering for you, as promised," she smiles.

"And looking hot on my jersey."

"Don't I always, though?"

"Look hot while wearing my jersey? I wouldn't know, I don't appreciate it that often," he jokes.

"Oh, but you do." Too often. They've been dating in secret for almost a month and she's grown more and more fond of that jersey. Stiles doesn't let her forget it. "I'll meet you on the field in a bit, alright?"

"I can't wait," he confesses, because today is the day they tell everyone that they're dating. He's been waiting for this for so long that he still can't believe it. "Love you."

Lydia never thought such words could come out of her so naturally and mean so damn much. "Love you too."

xxxxxxxxxx

The looks she gets as soon as she gets out of her car and makes her way to the lacrosse field unnerve her, but soon the feeling dissipates when Stiles ditches Coach as soon as he lays eyes on her, and runs the distance between them to greet her before the game begins.

Scott watches the scene unfold in confusion, not understanding where the hell Stiles just went and it's Liam who holds his jaw and makes sure that Scott doesn't stay frozen on the spot when Stiles greets Lydia with a kiss on the lips like if it's the most natural thing in the world, more so when she doesn't want to let go of him.

Both werewolves are propelled to follow their friend to find out what is going on, Kira joining them soon enough when she realizes that the pack is on the move even if she doesn't know why. She's the first to let out a little squeal when they meet the couple and realizes that they're together.

"Hi, guys," Lydia greets abashed, cheeks completely rosy and one of her arms loosely around Stiles' waist.

"You're dating?!" Scott asks, surprised. "Dude, why didn't you say anything?"

"We just…" Stiles looks down at Lydia adoringly, then back at his best friend. "We just wanted to make sure that this was gonna work first."

"I'm so happy for you," Kira exclaims, nudging her boyfriend on the shoulder for him to show more of a reaction.

Liam agrees before Scott does. "Yeah. It's been a long time coming, right?"

Stiles dismisses it playfully. "Eh, ten years, give or take. What's that in the grander scheme of things?"

Lydia kisses his cheek. Stiles pecks her lips in return.

"I know we've been waiting for this for ages but…" Scott gestures between both his best friends, looking awestruck. "But you two, together… I-"

"Awww I think Scotty is in shock," Stiles chuckles, but before he can continue mocking his best friend there's a whistle soaring in the distance. "Come on, buddy. We have to go, we have a game to win."

Scott eyes the human and the banshee curiously before starting to walking back to the field with Kira and Liam, all three of them glancing back several times to watch the couple.

Lydia laughs freely. "We should have prepared him for this."

Stiles pulls her closer by the waist, not caring that a lot of their classmates are watching them interestedly, already gossiping about it. "He didn't even see your shirt yet. He's gonna flip when he finds out you have my name on your back. It's just… It's been something we've dreamt of for a while, you know?"

She kisses him slowly, pulling him down so that she doesn't have to be on her tiptoes even though she's in heels. "I know," she murmurs. There's another whistle, this time more persistent, and Lydia is sure that it's because Stiles is not on the field yet. "Go on. Go win the game," she smiles.

He doesn't really care about Coach right now. "Will I get lucky tonight if I win?" he asks deviously, wiggling his eyebrows with an endearing smirk.

Lydia whispers in his ear before kissing him again, just a peck this time. "You'll get lucky either way," she beams. "Now go. I'll be right there," she tells him, pointing to the bleachers.

He checks her out from head to toe before leaving, appreciating her form in a small white skirt and his jersey, almost looking like a cheerleader and he's dating _her_. He can't understand how he got so lucky. "You look super hot, by the way," Stiles murmurs, kissing her cheek and then starting running to meet Coach before the man decides that Stiles doesn't get to play tonight as punishment.

He only stops halfway when Lydia calls for him, looking over his shoulder to find his girlfriend facing away from him but looking at him over her shoulder as well, the _Stilinski 24_ engraved on the back of her jersey giving him the boost of confidence he needed. The way she screams his name and full on cheers for him throughout the match has a lot to do, Stiles is sure, with the way he keeps scoring, and because of that it's not that much of a surprise that the Cyclones end up winning the last lacrosse game Stiles will ever play.

It's a good night, he admits, because then the pack goes out for a little bit and has fun together like they haven't had in a while and it's _good_. Better only when Lydia drives him home and ends up staying with him for the night and Stiles gets to admire the view properly, Lydia proudly wearing a shirt that has his name on the back and she looks so comfortable and happy and just _herself_ that Stiles just wants to kiss her senseless.

He does, and soon enough the jersey ends up on his bedroom floor but he doesn't mind much. When she leaves in the morning, it's his name she takes with her as she goes.


	18. Drabble 18 - Stydia

**Drabble #18 – "Are you sure this is legal?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : General Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles is willing to break a few rules if it makes Lydia happy.

 **A/N** : Have some New Year's fluff! I know it's a bit early, but it's probably the only one I'll write for it, so here :)

 **Tags:** Established relationship, Future!Fic, Fluff, Humor, Romance

 **Dedication** : For Helena, stydiaokaybye on tumblr. Happy birthday, love!

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"Are you sure this is legal?" Lydia asks, looking around and finding her surroundings more and more suspicious as they keep walking. She's 98% sure that they aren't supposed to be in this floor.

Stiles ignores her, pulling Lydia along by the hand and making a turn. "Come on."

She can't find it in herself to complain much especially since she's walking behind Stiles, which gives her a generous view of his ass and Stiles' ass in a tuxedo is something award-worthy. He rushes her, and they climb up three flights of stairs before Lydia can catch her breath and only then complain. She loves heels, _she does_ , but Stiles didn't seriously think this through whenever he came up with whatever plan he's following.

Lydia is in heels that are five inches tall and is wearing a long gown, her hair done and make-up completely immaculate. It's New Year's Eve and she's definitely, most certainly, not ready for her boyfriend's schemes.

And they're about to miss the fireworks.

"Stiles, you're gonna get us in trouble," she hisses, eyes widening when she spots him taking out a keycard from one of his pockets, a card that she's sure doesn't belong to him and that gives access to a room Lydia is absolutely positive they are not supposed to step into.

She's so gonna get fired over this.

" _Stiles!_ "

"Relax, geez…" is all he mutters, and it does nothing if not making her more anxious. "Have a little faith, will ya?"

Lydia suppresses the best that she can to smack him in the head, but she can't avoid rolling her eyes. "What the hell are we doing, Stiles? Whose keycard is that?"

"This…" He turns around to face the strawberry blonde and waves the keycard as if it's a trophy. "This is Mark's."

"Mark's? Mark, as in my supervisor-"

"Yes, _that_ Mark. Do you know another one?"

All breath escapes her. "What are you doing with his keycard? Are you _insane_?"

Stiles waves a hand dismissively and swipes the card on the controller, the little light there turning from red to green, a metallic click echoing through the stairwell. He smirks, and is about to say something when Lydia stops him.

"Stiles, did you steal it?" she asks, completely shocked.

"Of course not," he frowns. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not have a death wish. I'm pretty sure that if I'd stolen it, you'd have killed me by now, Lydia."

"I'm considering it," she remarks sarcastically, stomping her foot on the floor out of impatience, nerves and maybe a little too much alcohol.

Not a good mix.

"Why do you have Mark's keycard? Stiles, I could get fired! I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to be here."

Stiles lets out a chuckle, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing comfortingly. "Breathe, woman. Sometimes I ask myself why I'm dating you-"

"Funny," she interrupts, still a little concerned. "I wonder the same thing."

Stiles full on glares at her, shaking his head in disbelief. "We're not in trouble."

"Then what are we doing here?" she asks exasperatedly. "The party is downstairs. Why are we on the fourth floor, Stiles?"

"Because I'm the best boyfriend you've ever had," he replies happily, a cheeky smile on his face.

It only makes Lydia huff in annoyance. "I'm starting to doubt that."

Stiles opens the door behind him, stepping aside so that Lydia can walk in first. "Why don't you see for yourself, then?"

Lydia looks curiously first, then surprised, taking in the view of the building's rooftop. The starry sky and the moon are the only visible light aside from a few candles that are standing in a small table close by, a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne and two glasses next to them.

She walks around by herself for a few moments, taking it in. She can see the whole city from up there, it's not as cold a night as it was last year and the sky is completely clear. The champagne is one of the finest and the flowers are absolutely gorgeous, and everything together make for a perfect surprise on New Year's Eve, so when she turns around to face her boyfriend it's understandable that her eyes are brimming with tears.

"Stiles-" she chokes out, her voice failing her.

"I talked to Mark. I know you were pretty bummed that this was the first New Year's we were gonna spend just the two of us ever since we moved in together, and that you had to come to this party because you haven't worked here long and they're really impressed with your work and insisted that you'd be here, but exactly because of that I talked to your supervisor and explained that this was a special night for us."

Stiles shortens the distance between them, his hands automatically resting on her waist before he continues. "I knew, and he reminded me of it anyway, that this party would be excellent for you to make some connections that would benefit your research, and we agreed that you really needed to be here so, in return, I asked for a private room from where we could see the fireworks, even if only for five minutes. He certainly exceeded himself." It's far more than Stiles was hoping for. "So maybe I wasn't supposed to have asked and Mark wasn't supposed to have let us and technically _we are not_ supposed to be here, but we are. And it's okay, he made sure we wouldn't get into trouble. No one is gonna be looking for you when midnight comes, anyway. Only me," he murmurs, cupping her cheek.

Lydia doesn't hesitate in kissing him right then, giving him all she's got. He knows how important this job is to her and the project she's been working on for over two years is only now coming to life. Hadn't it been for Stiles, she would never even been in San Francisco and this opportunity would be out of her hands so yes, she was quite disappointed when she found out about the party because she wanted to surprise Stiles.

Turns out, he surprised her.

They pull away abruptly, startled by the chiming sound of fireworks being launched, and soon the sky is painted in glorious bright colors and a new year begins, and Lydia has never felt this happy.

Maybe only when Stiles wraps his arms around her from behind and rests his chin on her shoulder as they watch the show.

"You're so stubborn that we almost missed the fireworks, woman," he teases, his lips brushing her ear before he plants a kiss on her cheek.

Lydia grins. Bantering and making up and the little things are what makes them _them_ , and she wouldn't change it one bit. She turns to look at him, her nose bumping with his softly. "Happy New Year, Stiles."

He pecks her on the lips this time holding her close. "Happy New Year, Lydia."

xxxxxxxxxx

 **Author's Note** : **Please let me know what you think :)**


	19. Drabble 19 - Stydia

**Drabble #19 – "They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly, this is getting dangerous."**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Mature

 **Summary** : Although bickering while having sex is just Stiles and Lydia's every day, today it's out of the ordinary.

 **A/N** : Happy new year, everyone. Here's the first drabble of 2016.

For those of you who may want to join my birthday list this year, make sure to check out the new rules before asking for a drabble since I'll be following them strictly. To find out all about the rules and perks of being on my list, message me :)

 **Much like Drabble #8, this drabble is a chapter for one of my fics and I'll just come out and say that both these drabbles are for** _ **Everlasting love**_ (obviously, this chapter happens before the one feature in Drabble #8).

Enjoy!

 **Tags:** Established relationship, Canon-divergence, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Smut

 **Dedication** : For Quinn, chickenparmiga on tumblr. Happy birthday, sweetie!

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"They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly, this is getting dangerous," Stiles mumbles right after one of his feet slips on the wet floor of his shower for the third time since they hopped in a few minutes ago, resulting in Stiles slipping out of Lydia to maintain their balance. _Again_.

And they we're just getting it on.

Lydia sighs reflexively. "You're gonna get us both killed," she lets out when he puts her down, afraid of hurting her without meaning to if they are to give it another try.

"I'm sorry. But it's not my fault, you make my knees go weak," he tells her, slightly amused with the situation and glad that they didn't end up falling this time.

"Or shower sex just isn't for us," she replies annoyed but giving in to a chuckle nonetheless. Lydia presses herself against her boyfriend, his arms wrapping around her frame effortlessly. It's their fourth try at shower sex and they have never been able to finish for some reason, mostly because of gravity and Stiles coordination (or lack thereof), today maybe because he's still a little sleepy. Lydia could never tell.

"I honestly think it's a sign from the devil," he murmurs against her hair, letting his hands wander down to her waist and pushing Lydia against one of the walls of his shower, bending down to kiss her neck. "Telling us that we really should go to class and all…"

Lydia waves a hand dismissively. "Eh, we can take the devil."

Stiles lets out a laugh. "Lets just… Finish showering, alright?" He doesn't need to see her pout to regret his own words. "I really don't want to try this again if one or both of us is gonna end up with a broken neck."

Lydia kisses him chastely. "Okay, you're right."

"Of course I'm right," he laughs wriggling his eyebrows.

She rolls her eyes. "Shut up."

"Make me."

Lydia blames on him the fact that they take twenty minutes longer than usual to get out of the shower.

xxxxxxxxxx

It still feels new, Lydia thinks, that she gets to see Stiles first thing in the morning sometimes, so happy and just genuinely _him_ right after he wakes up, even if it's been almost two months since they started dating. There's an innocence to him in the morning that Lydia just can't get enough of.

She comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body to find Stiles absently checking his phone leaning against his desk, a towel wrapped round his waist low enough that Lydia can see his navel, his half-erection still very much there.

His features are the most beautiful thing when his eyes land on her, and Lydia wouldn't trade this for anything.

"Why aren't you getting ready?" she asks with a purse of her lips, feigning ignorance.

"I'm guessing for the same reason you were in the bathroom for ten minutes after I left you and you're still naked underneath that towel," he murmurs, ditching his phone and making his way towards Lydia, a smirk on his lips. "We can miss first period," he suggests.

"We shouldn't," she replies, knowing that it's more than decided that they're not leaving his bedroom anytime soon. It was more than obvious since the second they woke up this morning. She reaches for his towel and pulls Stiles fully against her.

"I'm gonna take a chance here and say that you don't really care," he muses, kissing her temple, then her cheek.

Lydia lets his towel fall, her hands feeling up his torso as she places light kisses along his collarbone. "I really don't."

Stiles chuckles against her neck, his hands slowly moving up her flanks. "So…"

"So…" she repeats, entwining her fingers behind his neck to pull him down, murmuring against his lips. "Maybe we should-"

"Finish what we started?" he completes for her, his hands reaching for the knot on her towel, undoing it with a mug smile on his lips. "I knew you were smart," he mocks.

Lydia shuts him up with a searing kiss, feeling her towel being tugged down before Stiles' hands are on her waist. "I _am_."

"Then I'm sure you know," he whispers against her jaw, kissing up to her ear, "that if you were already turned on, we should totally take care of that."

"You're always _so_ concerned about me, Stiles," she laughs. "And technically, I wasn't the only one." She pecks his lips. "And we were already halfway through so…" Lydia backs him up to his bed. "Try not to interrupt it next time," she jokes, licking her lips.

"Well, would you rather we die in there?" he asks, sitting on the edge of his mattress and crawling backwards to the middle of the bed, reveling on the beauty of a naked Lydia Martin before him.

Lydia doesn't hesitate in straddling him, putting on a thinking face. "Why am I dating you again?"

"Because I'm irresistible," he replies quickly, his mouth closing around one of her nipples.

Her eyes flutter closed when Stiles sucks on it. "What you are is _dramatic_ ," she brings herself to say, grinding down on him and earning something between a moan and a grunt.

"Funny. I'm not hearing you complaining", he murmurs when he gathers his bearings, one of his hands moving lower and lower to where their bodies are aching for more, his thumb gently starting to work her up and noticing how wet she still is.

"I will, if you don't do more than that soon," she quips, sucking a bruise on his collarbone when Stiles starts rubbing with a little more pressure in response.

"You're always so bossy," he mumbles, sighing when one of Lydia's hands wanders down his body to start stroking him. "Why am _I_ dating you?"

The words escape her before Lydia can stop herself. " _Because you love me_."

It shouldn't be such a big deal. It's not like they don't know it because they do; they just haven't said it out loud yet. Still, Both Stiles and Lydia freeze, cheeks turning pinker as seconds pass them by.

Lydia stutters. "I… I mean…"

Stiles decides it's better not to make it awkward. It doesn't change anything between them and it's not a lie, they both know it, so… " _I do_ ," he murmurs with a smile. "But that doesn't mean you're not a pain in my ass sometimes. I'm allowed to complain."

Lydia smiles back, leaning in despite not being ready to say the words back just yet. Stiles doesn't seem bothered by it, locking his lips with hers slowly, tentatively. It's a new kiss they're sharing, they can tell.

And they want more of it.

"Where were we?" he asks, and even though his heart his stammering in his chest - Lydia's is too, and even if he can't hear it, he can see her labored breathing -, Stiles is determined not to make a big deal out of it.

Lydia is thankful for that. "I believe you were complaining about having a right to complain, so…" Lydia inhales sharply when his lips find her breasts again. "Just…" She lets out a shaky breath, mirroring Stiles and starting moving her hands again. "Just you being you."

"Aren't you glad you're dating me?" he asks cheekily, kissing her again and softly biting on her bottom lip before pulling away. "I mean, you'd be missing all of this," Stiles tells her, gesturing to himself before grabbing her ass and pulling his girlfriend a little closer to him.

"But I wouldn't be missing first period, now would I?" she replies promptly, pecking his lips. "You're a bad influence on me."

"I need those classes more than you do. _You_ are a bad influence on _me_."

Lydia looks down at his growing erection pointedly, raising an eyebrow. "I can tell."

"I hate you," he mumbles, kissing her again with more passion this time, slipping one of his fingers inside of her.

Lydia moans lowly against his lips, a little louder when he adds a second finger not long after and he starts working her up excruciatingly slowly, but nevertheless tenderly. " _I can tell_ ," she repeats somewhat breathlessly, stroking him more firmly as he becomes harder by the second.

"If you don't stop being so smug, Lydia, I might have to let you go to school after all."

Lydia stops moving and glares at him.

The last time they bickered while having sex (bickered a little bit too much, that is, since they almost always bicker), Stiles ended up stopping altogether just to prove his point because he's a stubborn ass.

(A stubborn ass that she loves, of course, and that has an ass that she's rather fond of too, but that's not the point here.)

Granted, the make-up sex was otherworldly, but Lydia rather not go through being denied sex ever again.

(Because he's good.

He's really, _really_ good.)

"Stiles, if we're not having sex _and_ actually finishing very, very soon, I'm gonna kill you."

Despite what everyone might think, Stiles does not have a death wish. His lips brush hers, eyes boring into hers like fire. "I'm ready whenever you are, Lyds."

It's all that she needs to grab his shoulders and sink down onto him, her grip tightening when he has filled her completely, nails digging into his skin as soft sighs escape them both.

She'll never get used to how good it feels when he's inside of her, so the obscene moan that she lets out is more than justified.

"Now, was that so hard?" she asks defiantly when she feels like she can breathe again, keeping the banter because it's ingrained in them by now and it doesn't make this any less exciting, probably never will.

"I'm pretty sure that your moan means that _I_ am," he jokes, his lips kissing along her collarbone and up her neck.

Lydia slaps his arm playfully before lifting herself up a little and sinking down onto him again, starting rhythmic movements. "I hate you."

"Obviously," Stiles retorts, his hands grabbing her hips as she rides him.

"I really do," she murmurs, but it feels like something else.

Something _more_.

Stiles stares at her for a moment with nothing but adoration in his eyes, one of his hands brushing the hair out of her face before he whispers back " _I know_ " and they both know what it means.

When their lips meet and they start moving together, everything feels better.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I do love you," Lydia lets out, licking her lips nervously. "You know that, right?"

It's but a whisper, and if Stiles was dozing off after their third round in a row, he's wide awake now. He looks down at Lydia, a halo of strawberry blonde hair splayed across his chest as they rest, cuddling on his bed.

"I just…" she continues, looking up at him with apprehension on her features, her bare soul exposed to him in her eyes. "I was just never the best at expressing my feelings."

Stiles' lips quirk up into a small but reassuring smile. "I know," he whispers back. "And _I know_."

Her cheeks redden. "Sometimes I'm afraid that I don't express it enough. Or the right way, anyway."

Stiles tilts her chin up when Lydia is about to look away in embarrassment. "I never needed you to say it."

"Why?" she voices her doubt, her tone coming out more breathless than she was expecting.

"It's in the way you look at me," he replies honestly. "Or the way you touch me, the way we bicker back and forth and hold each other after that, even when we're mad." Stiles pauses, holding her more firmly against him. "And you never needed me to tell you that I love you for you to know that. It's the same thing for me."

Lydia purses her lips, cupping his cheek. "But it's still nice to hear it."

"I love you," Stiles lets out without hesitation, and it comes as natural to him as breathing.

"And I love you," Lydia says back, relieved to find out the exact same thing.

Moments pass them by as they just stare at each other, comforted to know that they're in the arms of someone they love so much.

When Stiles speaks again, Lydia knows what's coming as soon as she denotes his frisky tone. "Soooo…" Lydia licks her lips in anticipation, however tired she feels. "Since we lost most of our morning already, what do you say we skip school for the rest of the day and just stay in?"

She places a kiss on his chest. "Do you think you can handle it?" she asks teasingly, a playful smile on her lips.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Do you?"

Bickering ensues.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **Author's Note** : **Please let me know what you think :)**


	20. Drabble 20 - Stydia

**Drabble #20 – "Lydia, she's been crying all night. Okay?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : The cries of a little banshee baby wake up the Martin-Stilinski household.

 **Tags:** Established relationship, Family, Fluff, Romance, Parenthood

 **Author's Note:** Here's a little Stydia plus a newborn fluff because YES! All the Stydia lately has been killing me but yet giving me so much life!

 **Dedication** : This is incredibly delayed but life gets in the way and there's only so much I can do. For the lovely Audrey, waitingn-vain on tumblr. Happy belated birthday, sweetie!

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" _Lydia, she's been crying all night. Okay?_ "

Lydia still remembers a time when Stiles used to freak out about it. Well, when _they_ freaked out about the cries of a banshee newborn baby. Now, almost four months into parenthood, Lydia can proudly say that they mostly got the hang of it.

However, that doesn't make the sounds of little Ellie's cries any more pleasant. "No, not again…" Lydia mumbles sleepily, stirring uncomfortably and certainly not very amused at her daughter's screaming from the other bedroom. Sure it's not the baby's fault, but it's still something that Lydia hasn't quite yet gotten accustomed with and doesn't welcome all that well, understandably, especially at…

Lydia stirs on the bed to roll on her side and check the alarm clock on Stiles' bedside table, only to have hushed words whispered to her lips that she wasn't expecting, a kiss on her forehead along with it.

When did Stiles even get home?

"I'll go. Just stay in bed," he says, and it's soothing and pleasing…

But he can't go, he can't. "No, wait. Stiles…"

"It's okay, I've got it."

He's out of their bedroom before Lydia can protest further or wake up properly. Finding out that it's almost four in the morning, Lydia gets up from the bed reluctantly to go find her family.

Stiles passes by their bedroom with their crying daughter in his arms before Lydia can even sit up, tired as she's been feeling lately. Putting on her robe, Lydia drags her feet lazily to meet them in the kitchen, the baby's cries at such a late (or early) hour piercing her ears and guiding her to them.

She finds Stiles hushing their crying baby and murmuring soothing words as he reaches for the formula that Lydia always leaves prepared for the nights, struggling a little to comfort the baby while doing so. Lydia walks up to him, reaching for an empty bottle. "Let me help," she murmurs with a small smile on her lips, the sight of her husband with their daughter more than enough to really wake her up and have her utterly, truly happy. He's been gone so much lately…

"No. Lyds, go back to bed. I can do this."

She starts preparing the bottle for him nonetheless. "I know you can. But _you_ are the one who should be in bed right now." She looks at Stiles over her shoulder to find him running a hand soothingly up and down the baby's back, her cries subsiding a little. "How long ago did you get home? I didn't notice you coming."

Stiles smirks immediately at the implied dirty joke, taking a step closer to Lydia. His free arm circles her waist effortlessly from behind. "You always know when I am," he teases amused.

Lydia rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, putting the bottle to warm up and turning to face her husband. "You know what I meant." Her fingers intertwine behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss. "Hi."

Stiles lingers, kissing her back in a way that he hasn't been able to in days. Not that he didn't want to, or Lydia for that matter, but they've both been busy and up at different hours of the day just a little bit too much lately. "Hey."

"I miss you," she whispers as if he'll be gone again soon and he just might, her thumbs brushing his cheekbones as she keeps him close. " _We_ miss you."

Stiles lets out a breath. "I know." As if on cue, the baby a little louder again. Stiles starts rocking her, moving away from Lydia to wander around the kitchen. "Hey, daddy's home," he murmurs to his little girl. "It's okay."

He kisses the baby's forehead and Lydia melts, literally feels herself swoon. If she knew that Stiles with a child would be such a heartwarming thing to watch, she would have gotten pregnant much, much sooner. Yet, it's not enough to stop her from worrying. "Really, Stiles. You need to rest, you should go back to bed."

"I'm not going without you" is his immediate response, and when he says things like that, so effortlessly, it reminds her of a time when it meant so much more, when the other being there was on the verge of being an illusion, when they almost lost it all. He knows it as well as she does and so an almost shy smile escapes him, thinking that ten years ago he could have never imagined he'd be married to his other half, a perfect baby girl in his arms the result of their unwavering love. "We'll put her to bed and then we can go, okay? Together. But if you want to, you can go to bed now. You need your rest too."

Lydia tests the temperature of the formula on the back of her hand, making her way towards Stiles when the bottle is ready. She shakes her head. "No way. When did you get home?" she asks again, concerned. He's been sleeping less and less lately.

"About an hour ago…?" he replies sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Stiles…" she admonishes, noticing how tired he looks, the bags under his eyes doing nothing to hide it.

" _I know_ …" he repeats. "But-"

"No buts. You have to be up at seven," she murmurs, hushing the baby as well. "You need to rest-"

"And so do you. You've been with Ellie all the time. I want to help too."

Lydia sighs, starting to make her way to the nursery with Stiles in tow. "I know that. And you do."

"Not as much as I want to."

"You have work. _Very_ important work that requires that you have to be up early tomorrow-"

"Actually, I have news," he tells her, holding Ellie protectively against the crook of his neck, her tears wetting his pajama shirt. The closeness, after a moment, seems to quiet her cries almost completely.

His words make Lydia stop on her track and turn around in the middle of the hall. "Good news?" she asks hopefully, and when he nods Lydia gives him a grin like he hasn't seen in quite a while.

God, she's beautiful.

He feels breathless all of a sudden. "I- I caught him, Lyds. I caught the leader of the gang. It's over."

"Stiles!" she cheers, shortening the distance between them to give him a hug. "I can't believe it. I'm so proud of you." She feels him grin against her temple and she can't help but to smile bright too, joy winning her over. "You did it."

Stiles nods enthusiastically. "I did. And it was awesome, Lyds. Dad said I did really good, that he hasn't seen such a brilliant plan in action like mine in years."

"Looks like you did well, Deputy Stilinski," she whispers seductively, smirking, grabbing at his shirt for leverage and planting a smooch on his lips. "I'm so happy for you, Stiles. Why didn't you wake me up to tell me when you got home?"

Ellie seems to have her crying under control more than before now, but a sob escapes her and Stiles only holds his baby girl closer, gesturing for Lydia to continue leading their way to the nursery. "You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to disturb you."

"You never do," Lydia replies honestly, and even though Stiles can be a pain in the ass sometimes, he's never faltered when it counts.

"I was gonna tell you before I left for the station in the morning. I just didn't want to wake you up. It could wait."

Lydia enters the room first, picking up the baby blanket that's on the armchair so that Stiles can sit down, putting to play the record player they have on top of the drawer chest. White noise is something that helps with the baby's banshee-ness and Stiles and Lydia learned that the hard way, unfortunately.

When he's comfortable and Ellie is sitting on his lap, much calmer as soon as she seems to focus on the new sound, Lydia sits on the arm of the armchair beside Stiles and puts the blanket over them, handing him the bottle as she pulls her legs up and over one of Stiles' legs, nuzzling against him.

It's something they do quite often, especially recently since Stiles has been working extra hours on the last few weeks and has barely been home. Lydia understands, of course, with it being an extremely important case for the Department, and it only makes these moments they have for themselves more valuable.

Ellie starts drinking from the bottle as Stiles looks at his daughter lovingly, holding the bottle for her, cherishing the moment and wiping the little girl's tears from her chubby cheeks. "How long until you take care of all the paperwork?" Lydia murmurs, running a hand through his tousled hair absently as she watches them.

The baby's big green eyes don't leave Stiles' amber ones and he almost feels like he's in a trance, so it takes him a few seconds to answer Lydia, his tone calm, relaxed. "We'll do interrogation in the morning and I'm guessing I'll need a day or two to put everything in order. After that, I'm all yours. Dad already agreed on giving me a few days off to make up for all the hard work."

Ellie's eyes focus on Lydia when she answers, and Lydia can't help but to smile. "Good. We need you."

Stiles turns to face Lydia with an honest expression on his face, one that is ingrained in the way that he wears his emotions in his eyes and stance, his heart on his sleeve the same way he always has. He leans in, resting his forehead against hers. "You have no idea how much I miss you."

Lydia cups his cheeks and kisses him again, rather slowly this time, pouring every emotion she has into the kiss. It's hard being home alone with Ellie when she knows that Stiles not only is out of the house to work extra hours, but has been putting himself in harm's way to solve the case. To say she's relieved that it's over is an understatement.

Stiles pecks her lips again when they part just because he can. Lydia grins. "Oh, you have no idea just how much _I miss you_."

He knows she means intimately. There had been complications after the delivery and ever since then, adjusting to raising a little banshee has been proving challenging to them both, especially since they're often confused as to what's happening with their daughter when something is wrong. Discerning between what can be considered normal for a human baby and equating her banshee-ness has been quite the trouble and has taken its toll on them, so intimacy is something they've lacked until very, very recently.

He kisses her cheek. "I'll make it up to you. Promise."

Lydia chuckles. "If she lets us," she jokes, looking at their daughter.

Stiles smiles fondly. "Oh, she will. She'll have to."

Lydia keeps running her hand through his hair gently, leaning towards him and cuddling against him comfortingly. "Don't be so sure. She'll be a spazz just like you. Mark my words."

Stiles smirks proudly. "She's a handful, isn't she?" he asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows at his wife in amusement. "My little banshee..." he whispers more to himself than for the girls to hear.

"I swear I don't know why I ever married you," Lydia teases. " _You_ are a handful on your own."

"And you love every bit of it."

It's sincere and natural, and it's been such a simple admission for so long that to Lydia it feels like it's always been like this, like she never knew anything else. She smiles softly. "I do."

There's a moment of silence when they share a glance, and it's so genuine it makes them feel like teenagers again. It always feels new and exciting somehow.

And it always feels like home.

They stay quiet, cuddling, until Ellie falls asleep in Stiles' arms as he sings, out of tone but lovingly, the lullaby his mother used to sing to him at night. That Lydia ends up dozing off too - and much like her daughter, in Stiles' comfort and warmth - is purely coincidental.

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 **Author's note:** Please review :)


	21. Drabble 21 - Sterek

**Drabble #21 – "I'm gonna lie down and die for like half hour, okay?"**

 **Pairing** : Stiles/Derek

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : Stiles comes home to a supportive Derek after a bad day at work.

 **Tags** : Established relationship, a little bit of domestic fluff and a little banter, supportive Derek and Stiles is, well, Stiles

 **Author's note** : Another drabble for Sterek. For those of you who want to read it, this is my 2nd time writing for Sterek. Everything you need to know about me, my writing and my view of Sterek you can find on Drabble #10, the other fic I wrote for this ship. You're welcome to check it out.

This drabble can be read as taking place in canon some years in the future, or as an AU. I'll leave it to your imagination :)

 **Dedication** : This fic is more than delayed for the birthday of the lovely Annelies - narrywhatelse on tumblr -, but it's finally here. Happy belated birthday, sweetie. I hope you like it :)

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"I'm gonna lie down and die for like half hour, okay?"

Stiles doesn't wait for Derek to say anything back, just slams the front door behind him and grudgingly makes his way towards the couch, where he plops unceremoniously facing down and lets out a low grunt, irritated.

From the kitchen, Derek narrows his eyes in suspicion, wondering why Stiles could ever be in such a mood (or at least, why he'd be moodier than usual; it is Stiles after all) but then he remembers that today was Ricky's first day back at the coffee shop after being on medical leave for over three weeks, and if someone's bound to get on Stiles' nerves, and absurdly at that, it's _Ricky_ , so _that_ has to be why Derek's boyfriend stormed into the loft without another word.

The werewolf lets Stiles calm down before saying anything, lowering the temp on the stove and stirring the soup, putting down the spoon before making his way to the living room where he finds Stiles sprawled over the couch, his arms covering his head for drama effect, murmuring lowly to himself curse word after curse word after curse word directed at his blonde, god-looking like co-worker.

It makes Derek purse his lips in amusement not to laugh, a small smile threatening to escape that Stiles just knows is there even though he isn't looking, and good god does it make him madder.

"Stop that!" he spats.

"Stop what?" Derek asks feigning confusion, raising an eyebrow even if Stiles can't see.

Stiles knows that he's doing it anyway. "Stop enjoying this so much, you're making it worse," Stiles mumbles against a cushion, so the sound comes out muffled.

It's a good thing (or rather inconvenient sometimes, honestly, if Stiles were to be asked) that Derek has enhanced hearing. "I thought _I_ was the grumpy one," Derek says, crouching down besides Stiles and waiting for the human to face him.

Stiles sighs audibly and turns his head to look at Derek, hands still buried in his own hair as if he needs to ground himself. "You try to put up with Ricky for a ten-hour shift and not be in a bad mood."

"I put up with you," Derek remarks jokingly, grabbing hold of one of Stiles' hands so that he stops mauling his naturally unruly mane, a nasty habit he has picked up when he's stressed.

Eventually, Stiles gives in and squeezes Derek's hand in thanks and, never losing touch with is boyfriend, turns to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling in contemplation.

(In truth, he does it to ramble. It's one of his favorite past times and they both know it.)

(Derek kneels on the floor just in case it turns out to be a long rant rather than a short one.)

"Long day?" he asks interestedly.

"Ricky _is such_ a dick!" Derek doesn't even get to say anything before Stiles continues. "Like, who the hell was _supposedly_ sick – and yes," he glares at Derek, "I still don't believe he was actually sick – and comes back to work full force, still very much a jackass as if he hadn't been weak and beat up just the day before-"

Derek interrupts Stiles, trying to reason with him. He knows how he can get carried away sometimes. "Isn't that what a medical leave is for though, to ensure that one gets better?"

The thing is, where Ricky is concerned, Stiles and his co-worker have pretty much been archenemies ever since the other man started working at the coffee shop about three months ago, where Stiles had been the employee of the month for almost two years straight.

The problem? Ricky is over-flirtatious if that's even a thing, and girls upon girls and guys stop by to swoon over him whereas Stiles makes polite, sometimes funny conversation with the customers. The regulars prefer Stiles always because, as they say, he has his own charm, but what gives publicity to the place right now are Ricky's arms and Ricky's abs and his stupid hair or whatever.

Needless to say, Stiles hates him.

(And is just slightly jealous of his impressive physique, but in truth it's really about how Stiles was so close to getting a promotion and now things aren't so certain anymore and he hates it.)

Stiles _really_ _hates_ him.

Loathes the guy, really.

Stiles can tell that Derek regrets asking because usually it would rile Stiles up, but he's just worn-out from work today and upset, and in need of a little comfort. Picking a quarrel with is boyfriend is not gonna help at all even if, as it happens more often than not, their arguments are mostly amicable and amusing.

 _Mostly_.

"I'm sorry," Stiles lets out with a tired sigh, rubbing his eyes distractedly with the hand that's not holding Derek's. "I'm sorry."

Derek gives him a small smile and kisses Stiles' knuckles, his thumb rubbing them gently right after. "It's okay, I get it."

"It's just… It's not fair, you know? He's not even good at his job," he mutters, gesticulating in a very-Stiles manner with his free hand. "He sucks actually, and I work my ass off to do my best and still…"

Stiles groans in frustration and Derek squeezes his hand in understanding. He knows Ricky is actually just an entitled, rich brat who's trying to let his parents know that he can do something in life instead of devoting his time to being a socialite, and Derek's pretty sure that even Cora, with her dazzling personality and natural charm (Stiles is not the only one who can do sarcasm!), would do a much better job than that guy.

He's seen firsthand just how bad he is at the job in comparison to pretty much every single person on the planet, but the thing is that having Ricky around is good publicity, and since Mr. Novak – the owner, and an old friend of the Sheriff – renovated the coffee shop a few months ago, free publicity is key. As the man sees it, it can't hurt having Ricky flaunt himself around the place for a while so long as the other employees do their job.

It's not exactly the most ethic approach for a successful, healthy running business, but it works. More people come to the coffee shop now than they did before the renovation, and no one really complains because they get to stare at Ricky while his co-workers are amazing at their job and provide for quality service.

Stiles doesn't like it any more for that, understandably.

"Look, Mr. Novak knows how hard you work every day, okay? Hadn't it been for you, I doubt he'd have the success he actually has now and he knows that, Stiles. He knows _you_." The corners of Stiles' lips tilt up despite himself as Derek continues, his hand raking through Stiles' hair absently. "He knows how hard you work, how good you are with the customers and don't forget that the renovation was pretty much your idea. I'm sure he's just taking advantage of the resources he has available at the moment."

"It doesn't make it suck any less," Stiles mutters, somewhat resigned. "It just drives me mad that he barely knows how the coffee machine works, you know? Or which area is his to serve… Even Mike is far better than him and we all thought Mike was a lost cause."

Mike is Stiles and Derek's downstairs neighbor, a kid fresh out of high school who was just looking for a part time and some extra cash along with it to help with his college tuition. Stiles put in a good word for him and he's been doing surprisingly well at the coffee shop, despite being far clumsier than Stiles ever was, which says a lot.

"See? You were the one who told Mr. Novak about Mike and he loves the guy. Maybe you just need to talk to him, Stiles. He listens to you. I'm sure Mr. Novak will take your opinions into consideration just like he did when you went to him about Mike." At that, there's a sheepish smile and a narrow of eyes that have Derek looking at Stiles suspiciously. "Wait. What did you do?"

Stiles opens his mouth in feigned shock at the assumption, then grunts because he knows well enough what he's done. "Remember Nora?"

Nora is Mr. Novak's daughter, a beautiful girl in her twenties that's studying away from home and only comes back occasionally to visit the family, a bright genius but a complete introvert, and she so happened to visit the coffee shop today.

Derek nods in acknowledgement, and when Stiles doesn't say anything for a good twenty seconds, the werewolf raises an eyebrow, growing more and more disbelieving.

"You set them up, didn't you?"

"In my defense, it was completely unintentional," Stiles quips quickly. "I introduced them and it just sort of… Happened…"

"Mr. Novak's gonna kill you," Derek tells him, trying – and failing – to withhold a laugh. "I can't believe you set up precious, sweet Nora with that jerk."

"Wait!" Stiles sits up in a hurried movement, full-on glaring at Derek. "Who do you think I set her up with? _Ricky_? You think I have a death wish?" Derek raises an eyebrow at Stiles then, again,, clearly implying that yes, sometimes Stiles does have a death wish and he sure as hell knows it, if the number of times he's put himself in danger for the pack is any indication. " _Mike_. I sort of set her up with Mike."

"It isn't as bad as the alternative," Derek offers, tilting his head in consideration. "Although Mike is gonna have it hard. Both because Nora won't be in town for long _and_ because Mr. Novak is gonna make his life a living hell now, probably."

"And mine. Both because I'm the one who introduced them _and_ because I'm the one who got Mike the job in the first place. I'm so gonna get fired…" Stiles mutters with a breathy sigh. This day really wasn't one of his best. "But… But you should have seen them, Derek. It was like Mike's eyes just lit as soon as Nora walked in. And she goes in and notices him and literally, very visibly blushes. Hard, like in a novel. It's like they were the only ones in the room. And they're both so shy, _god_ … It was adorable, I couldn't help myself."

Stiles suddenly hears how the lid of the pan is shaking from the vapor back in the kitchen, and it makes him realize that he has interrupted Derek when he'd walked in a few minutes before. "The same way that I can't help myself when I start rambling, which I am doing now, so I'll stop. This isn't important, I'm sorry," Stiles finishes, eyes apologetic like a puppy caught doing something he shouldn't.

Derek squeezes Stiles' shoulder in understanding. "It's okay. It does matter. And it's a good distraction," he offers with a smile and a supportive nod of his head.

"Me, rambling?" Stiles chuckles lightly. "What? Grading middle schoolers' papers isn't exciting enough for you?" he teases, grabbing Derek's hand and holding it in his own.

"Not enough, no," Derek murmurs jokingly. "But it is fun sometimes, I'll give them that." He loves his students, it's what he means. "Still not as entertaining as listening to you, for sure."

Stiles smiles softly before leaning in, placing a chaste kiss on Derek's lips in thanks. Derek cups his cheeks to pull Stiles closer and deepen the kiss in greeting, since he didn't get the chance when Stiles walked in.

When they pull away, Derek is smiling too. "Tell me all about it. Tell me all about how you'll get your ass fired. We need to be prepared," he teases, letting out a laugh. "I don't know if I want to marry someone who can so recklessly get himself unemployed."

Marry.

 _Marriage_.

Derek casually mentioning it _again_ as if it's an ordinary topic of conversation!

(Stiles' heart, which just skipped a beat, utterly disagrees.)

Derek says it jokingly in that moment, he knows, but Stiles wonders just how serious he's being. Marriage is a topic they've talked lightly over the years and far more frequently lately, with hints dropped here and there, so far mostly from Derek's part.

Stiles idly considers bringing up the subject later.

(Or soon, since he's Stiles and he can't help himself. Very, very soon, preferably.)

"Do you really want to hear me ramble? Because I could go on for hours," Stiles states in an almost proud tone, continuing the conversation and trying not to let show how he's a little nervous all of a sudden.

(Sometimes he forgets he's dating a werewolf.)

Derek smirks at how Stiles' heart jumped just before he spoke and can't help but to let out a laugh, getting back up on his feet and pulling Stiles along with him. "Oh, I know," he jokes. "Why don't you tell me over dinner?" Derek asks with a tilt of his head towards the kitchen. "It's almost ready."

If someone would have told Stiles – or Derek, for that matter – that they'd be here now, supporting each other even despite their differences and unique quirks and stupid arguments, helping each other through testing times and rough days and better ones, they'd probably laugh.

Not now, though.

Now they're just thankful. And happy and excited for what's to come, ups and downs.

Derek leads the way to the kitchen and takes off the lid, stirring the soup one last time before turning off the stove. Stiles is beside him in an instant, stealing a kiss on his cheek before waving his hand softly over the steamy pan to inhale the mouthwatering scent. "Maybe _you_ should tell _me_ about _your_ day. I don't want to talk about Ricky anymore."

"Good. I don't care about _him_."

"But you care about me?" Stiles asks teasingly, placing a hand over his own heart. "I'm touched."

"You know I do," Derek murmurs almost inaudibly, a soft smile gracing his lips, a bump against Stiles' shoulder for good measure.

"Good," Stiles grins, blushing a little. It takes someone special to put up with someone like himself and god, is he happy that he's found someone that special. "Good."

There's a moment of silence that follows, and Derek looks at Stiles with a playful glint in his eyes, a nod of his head and a smirk that agrees with how Stiles is feeling in that moment.

Stiles couldn't ask for anything else and neither could Derek.

"Need a hand?"

Derek tries to ignore the dirty implication that Stiles denotes on his tone every time he says something of the sort, barely managing to stifle a chuckle. "Sure. Why don't you set up the table while I finish up here?"

"And we can talk over dinner?" Stiles asks, already opening the cutlery drawer to take out what he needs. "About _my_ day, and _your_ day and uh- You know, _things_? In hmm… In general?"

Derek doesn't hesitate in pecking Stiles' lips before smirking almost devilishly, reaching over to one of the upper counters to grab two plates while facing away just to tease Stiles further. "Something on your mind?"

Derek knows damn well that Stiles, as he is, is probably still hung up on the fact that Derek just casually mentioned marriage once again, which is a good thing. They have to talk about it at some point. It's the next step in their relationship, and in truth they're both eager to discuss the matter sooner rather than later to see where they both stand.

You know, as soon as they actually get to talk about it.

Stiles grins again, the way the blood is running through his veins now having nothing to do with why it was boiling when he came home just a few minutes ago. "Maybe."

Stiles finds a couple of glasses while Derek serves the soup, the werewolf then making his way to the dining table all the while graciously balancing both plates on his hands when he keeps walking but looks over his shoulder to teasingly tell Stiles to "Grab the wine." When Stiles joins him at the table, he's already much more relaxed even if having _the conversation_ makes him a little anxious.

In the end of the day, when he's falling asleep in Derek's arms, Stiles can't help but to think that this is what home means to him, what will mean from then on now that they agree on another aspect of their lives. Because even in the worst of days they can, together, make it all better, and that's all that matters.

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 **Author's note** : Feedback is much appreciated :)


	22. Drabble 22 - Scallison & Stydia

**Drabble #22** **–** **"I could kiss you right now."**

 **Pairing** : Scott/Allison and Stiles/Lydia

 **Rating** : Teen and Up Audiences

 **Summary** : Eager to try for another child, Allison prepares a romantic evening for herself and Scott. However, her plans are ruined when their kids are brought back home in tears. Their night turns a different kind of special when they end up discussing marriage, parenting, friendship and love. In the end, rethinking their wish seems like the right way to go.

 **Tags** : AU, Established relationship, Fluff, Romance, Parenthood, Friendship, Humor, Slice of life

 **Author** **'s note** : Okay, please read this first to understand the setting of the story.

This drabble is as much for Scallison as it is for Stydia because I'm biased af and because I miss writing for my multi-chapter fic "Know better"! If you are familiar with that fic, this drabble can be read as a side story set in the same universe in the future, and more focused on Scott and Allison rather than Stiles and Lydia. It won't be a chapter of "Know better" _per se_ , but parts of it will be mentioned in the story after Stiles and Lydia are already married. Since it's set in a somewhat near future, lets see which hints at what's coming you guys will be able to pick up on *smiles deviously*

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please assume that this is an AU where Scott and Allison are married, and that the fact that their daughter is named Claudia is completely unrelated to Stiles' mother's name. Lydia and Stiles are also married and are raising a five year old girl named Ariel, who is Lydia's daughter with someone else. They met when Lydia moved with her daughter to Beacon Hills to escape her past and, by then, little Ariel was already 4. These are little details but they'll help you understand the setting, otherwise it wouldn't make much sense. There are no supernatural elements involved whatsoever.

Take this drabble as wishful thinking, if you will. We all want Allison back and god, do I miss her.

A giant thank you to bebethsas on tumblr, who beta'ed this drabble 3

 **Dedication** : For Hannah, stilinski-stiles on tumblr.

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"I could kiss you right now," Scott whispers as soon as he gets home and enters their bedroom, eyes glimmering in the candles' lights as they rake over Allison's frame, the only thing she's wearing a silky, light pink robe that hugs her figure tightly and that, despite being long, leaves little to her husband's imagination.

The brunette stays where she is, across the room from him leaning against the doorframe of their en-suite bathroom, checking him out in return as Scott takes in the atmosphere, a light smirk on her lips.

She's always loved how disheveled he looks when he comes home from practice.

"Well, I'm not stopping you," she replies enticingly, slowly making her way towards him and taking her time while Scott gawks at what she's done for him, for _them_ , for this night.

There are candles scattered around the bedroom, barely lighting up the space as their scent sweetly sets up the mood. Along with it, soft music plays in the background but Scott pays no attention to the details.

His eyes focus on Allison and Allison alone when she nears him, her curls bouncing slightly with every step, her heartbeat starting to race much like his own when she slowly opens her robe, familiar skin being unveiled as Scott does nothing but to stare in awe as if it's the first time he's seeing it.

It's been a while since they had the chance to be by themselves for a night and god, do they need it.

Allison lets her robe fall until it's hanging on the crook of her elbows for a moment as Scott admires the view, her fair skin breaking into goosebumps both because of how endearingly Scott is looking at her and from the cold that can be felt on that early December evening. Her robe falls the rest of the way to the floor unceremoniously before she finally meets Scott when she deems him satisfied, not refraining from letting her fingers graze his jaw gently, pulling him down until their lips meet.

Needless to say, Scott gives in to a naked Allison in no time at all.

His hands hold her waist firmly as they kiss, moving up her flanks as his mouth leaves hers to kiss her cheek and down her neck instead, the scent of honey on her skin mixing with the one of roses around their bedroom. In return, Allison tugs at the hem of his shirt to lift it up and over his head, throwing it to the side mindlessly not to waste any more time.

"I should take a shower," Scott manages to mumble right before her mouth eagerly returns to his, her fingers running through his wet hair. "I'm all sweaty."

"Have I ever minded?" Allison replies teasingly before placing a kiss just under his chin and tasting the saltiness there, fingers moving down brushing his bare chest.

Scott can only smile in return. "Not really."

She smiles wickedly. "Then stop stalling," she chuckles. "It's been too long."

In her defense, it really has been. In between work and classes and the kids, neither of them can really remember when the last time they were intimate was and it's been taking its toll on them, understandably, making them miss the other in a way as if they didn't see each other every day. As if, somehow, the other is out of reach. More so when the desire to have another child makes everything feel much bigger and important, and the other's distance weighs on them and doesn't let them have their way.

There's a moment of silence and a loving glance shared between the two before Scott lets out a laugh as well, turning them around and pinning Allison against the wall on a whim, lips happily meeting again as they enjoy some time alone for the first time in weeks.

Allison fumbles with the string on Scott's sweatpants almost immediately, and is about to push them down when her husband stops abruptly, breaking the kiss.

"What?" she asks, surprised at how startled he looks all of a sudden.

Scott stops her hands and looks over his shoulder suspiciously, leaving her to walk all the way across the bedroom and move away the curtain slightly, peeking through the window. "I think I'm hearing-"

He doesn't get to finish the sentence because sure enough the yelling grows clearer when he approaches the window, realizing that their six year old son Eric and their almost two year old daughter Claudia are on their driveway, crying their eyes out and screaming while Stiles and Lydia, obviously rather unsuccessfully, try to calm them down before they slam the car doors shut, Ariel quietly trailing close behind them.

Allison lurks right behind her husband, stunned to find that their kids are crying in such a way that Stiles and Lydia, from where Scott and Allison are watching them from behind the curtains on the second floor, seem completely desperate and at a loss on what to do.

Scott closes the curtain swiftly and urges to pick up Allison's robe from the floor, worry flooding him. "They weren't supposed to come home for another two hours," he exclaims with slight panic in his voice when he realizes that Allison is stark naked and both their kids and best friends are about to burst through the front door any moment now. "What the hell happened?"

"No idea," Allison replies with just as much concern, taking the fabric from his hands and quickly enveloping it back around her frame. She ties the robe with a tight knot and blows out all the candles while Scott puts his shirt back on, the mood completely ruined much to their dismay.

They're running down the stairs before Stiles and Lydia can calm down the kids enough to make their way to the front porch and ring the doorbell.

With Allison in tow, Scott opens the door frantically to find Eric clutching Lydia's arm, throwing a fit worthy of waking up half the neighborhood if it were the middle of the night, little Claudia softly crying in Stiles' arms, fat tears steadily falling down her chubby cheeks as she nuzzles in her uncle's arms. For her part, Ariel just stands behind her mother and Stiles, in silence and a little startled at all the commotion.

"What happened?" Allison echoes Scott's question immediately, reaching out to take Claudia from Stiles and into her arms.

Stiles lets go of the toddler almost reluctantly, kissing Claudia's forehead before he passes the little girl to her mother. "We are _so_ sorry."

It's noticeable on both Stiles and Lydia's features that they truly are sorry for whatever happened, and something in the way they share a glance screams _We screwed up_ instead of a _We put your son and daughter in danger and that_ _'s why they're crying for dear life_ kind of look.

It's actually odd that the pair could have done something to upset the kids so much. It isn't the first time they've babysat for Scott and Allison and they're great with the kids, especially since Stiles is their godfather, so it's natural that amongst concern and fear for whatever it is that happened to their children, Scott and Allison can't help but also feel curious about the look just shared between their best friends.

"It's nothing much, but we can't get them to stop crying," Lydia explains, eyes wide. "We _really_ didn't mean to interrupt you two," she states bluntly, knowing exactly why she and Stiles had been left to take care of the kids.

It was a debt being paid for what had happened at their wedding, after all.

"Really," Stiles adds, scratching the back of his neck nervously, "I think they just need _you_ for this. I doubt anything _we_ say will ease them right now."

Scott motions for all of them to enter the house and closes the door behind him, Eric leaving Lydia to pull at his father's shirt instead, calming a little when Scott starts running a hand through the boy's hair soothingly.

"What happened?," he repeats when everyone is sitting in the living room, the girls all murmuring comforting words to Claudia to stop her little sobs as Stiles rubs a hand up and down his nephew's back.

Stiles and Lydia share another look, and Allison can't tell if they're sorrier for what happened or disappointed in themselves.

It seems to be a mix of both.

"We spent all afternoon watching movies with the kids while Claudia here took her nap, as we'd planned," Lydia starts explaining, fondly stroking the girl's cheek. "And when we were having dinner, we commented about how we'll have to shop for dresses again soon, what with the wedding coming up."

Another wedding in the family. The festivities never seem to end.

"So we were talking about weddings," Stiles continues, "and we suggested that maybe Eric could pick his tie this time, the same way Ariel could choose her dress since it's only the second wedding she's attending ever. And, you know, her first was _our_ wedding," he motions between himself and Lydia, "and she was the flower girl and Eric was the ring bearer, so they didn't have much of a say on their attire then."

"So we were talking about it," Lydia picks up, sighing sadly when she notices that Eric has calmed some, but Claudia still seems a little bewildered with a situation she doesn't really understand, tears still pooling in her eyes as she hiccups. "And Ariel mentioned that she loved our wedding. That she had a lot of fun that day and that she wished we'd get married again so that she could relive that weekend because it was the best weekend of her life."

All of the adults smile a little at that. It's not every day that someone gets to see a parent marry someone who they love so much and Ariel, for sure, was still thrilled that it happened even though Lydia's wedding to Stiles was over a month ago.

They can't really blame her for it, though. It was a beautiful ceremony and all three of them deserved it. Stiles, Lydia and Ariel deserve each other and there's nothing wrong with wanting to celebrate it.

"So Eric got curious and asked her why," Stiles mutters, looking down at his hands self-consciously.

"Why what?" Allison asks, confused.

"Why it had been the best weekend of Ariel's life, since Eric has been to a few weddings himself and thinks that they are fun, but not really all that exciting or life-changing."

"And what did you say, Ariel?" Scott questions, looking at the little redhead that had yet to speak a word since she got there.

She looks lost for a second, glancing at her mother first and then at Stiles as if asking permission to say it again. Even though they both nod, the girl shakes her head. "I don't want Eric to get mad at me again," she whispers, hiding behind her mother slightly and blushing because all eyes are on her.

Stiles is by Ariel's side in a second, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. "Hey, Eric is not mad at you." The little redhead looks at the boy in question, ashamed of causing all this trouble. "I promise you, munchkin. He's just upset."

The young boy crosses his arms at his chest defensively and huffs audibly. " _I_ _'m not_ upset," he complains stubbornly, stomping his foot on the ground for show.

"Actually," Lydia intervenes, "I think he's not so much upset as he's hurt."

"But why?" Allison asks exasperatedly, still not understanding what all the fuss is about.

"Because I said that I liked mommy's wedding because it was her wedding to Stiles, and I really love mommy and Stiles too and they love me back. No one from my class at school went to their parents' wedding," Ariel says almost in a hum, not wanting to disappoint her friend again.

Three things happen at once.

Stiles' heart falters when Ariel refers to him as her parent which, albeit not being for the first time, he's still getting used to.

Eric looks like he's gonna start crying again.

Scott and Allison, almost at the same time, let out an _Oh_ in unison when they start realizing what the problem is.

"Eric doesn't understand why he wasn't able to go to _your_ wedding," Lydia resumes. "We've tried to explain it but we think it's just better if you guys handle this one."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees. "And Claudia mostly started crying because Eric was crying so uh… Again, we're really sorry for this," Stiles offers with an apologetic smile.

Both Scott and Allison go to dismiss the apology immediately but Eric talks before either of them can, a fresh new tear falling down his cheek. "I thought you loved me." It's but a whisper let out from his quivering lips, but it hits Scott and Allison right in the chest as if he'd shouted it. "You're always saying that you love me-"

"Oh, sweetie." Allison rushes to put Claudia down and kneel in front of the brown haired boy. "Of course we do. Both of you," she says, extending one hand for Claudia to take as the other softly cups Eric's cheek.

The boy takes a step back, clearly bothered. "No, you don't."

"Eric…" Scott tries, in vain, to explain.

"Then why weren't we at your wedding?" He replies in an almost shout, wiping at his tears. "If you loved us, we would have been there, like Ariel was for Uncle Stiles and Aunt Lydia."

The boy's words border on contempt a little and really, it doesn't help at all that this happened right when Eric and Ariel are in that phase of their childhood where they think a child from the opposite sex is, in their own words, _Ewwww_. What had been a beautiful friendship ever since they met over a year ago is now vulnerable, so being jealous of something Ariel had that he never did has Eric liking her a little bit less.

It doesn't help much either that, right before this phase started, they sort of had a little crush on each other.

Before anyone can really react, Eric turns around and leaves for his bedroom, running up the stairs and Stiles feels himself at a crossroads not knowing what to do. He's the one who started the conversation, he let it get to this point and now both his godchildren and his stepdaughter are hurting. Furthermore, he doesn't even want to think how stressful this is being for Lydia on top of it all.

Scott, sensing his best friend's dilemma, gets up from where he was sitting on the couch and holds Claudia's free hand, facing the other family. "We got it from here. Why don't you guys go home?"

Sometimes, Stiles thinks, it's actually annoying how kindhearted Scott can be. "Should I go talk to him? We never meant for this to happen, I swear. We were just talking and then Eric-"

Allison makes her way to Stiles and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright. We'll talk to him."

"We're really sorry for ruining your night," Lydia says, pursing her lips. "We owe you one, Ally. We…" Lydia lifts a hand to her stomach instinctively, thinking about what they did without meaning to, voice shaking. "We weren't thinking. We didn't know he'd take it so personally. I can imagine it's upsetting for someone so young like him to find out that someone else got to experience such a thing and that they never got the chance to."

Allison takes Lydia's hand in hers. "Hey, it's okay. We'll talk to him and everything will be okay, alright?"

"Really, guys. Just go," Scott forgives even though he doesn't really have to. "I'm guessing it's not just that he wasn't at our wedding, but also because of little miss red hair here," he chuckles to dissipate the tension in the room, pointedly looking at Ariel. "You two haven't been the best of friends lately, Ariel, have you?"

It's the boys-are-gross/girls-are-gross predicament typical of their age and it started showing when they began elementary school a few months ago. Eric and Ariel had taken a liking to the other so quickly and irrevocably when they first met that, when new friends came, their friendship was put on the sidelines in favor of something new.

It's been a challenge for the adults lately, to say the least.

The only thing the little strawberry blonde says in her defense is that " _He_ _'s a boy!_ " as if it excuses her behavior in the last few months.

Allison can't help but to let out a laugh. "It doesn't mean that you can't be friends. You were friends before," she reasons, offering the girl a warm smile. "And you like Eric, don't you?"

She means it in a friendly way, but the girl immediately makes a face of disgust that, in all honesty, has all the adults biting back a laugh. "Ewww. I don't like boys."

Stiles kisses the girl's cheek on impulse. "Good! Now keep that in mind until you're _at least_ 25," he jokes.

Scott chuckles at his best friend's behavior. "It's funny how before you wanted nothing but to be Eric's wingman when he grew up, and now suddenly it just isn't like that anymore," he teases Stiles, who narrows his eyes at him in response.

"New perspective," Stiles replies, knowing all too well that if Ariel grows up to be even a tenth as beautiful as her mother, her youth is gonna be a hell of a ride for sure. And the worst part is that he's almost positive the girl will grow to be at least as beautiful as Lydia, if not more. "I can still be his wingman. Just… Far away from…" He gestures vaguely to where Ariel is standing in front of him. "Maybe on the next town over, perhaps," he suggests playfully.

Ariel looks up at Stiles quizzically and he just grins back. The girl can't help but to lose the stubborn attitude and give in to a smile at how contagious Stiles can be.

For her turn, Allison smacks Stiles lightly in the head. "You're the worst." She bends down to face Ariel, who's not really following the conversation. "Tell you what. Me and Uncle Scott are gonna talk to Eric and help him understand why it was different for you. And tomorrow maybe we can all get together and you two can make amends. I know that Eric doesn't want to be mad at you and I'm sure you don't want him to be mad either, am I right?" The girl nods almost imperceptibly after a moment. "You and Eric don't have to be together all the time, but that doesn't mean that you can't still be friends, right?"

"Okay," Ariel mumbles after a moment, resigning with a faint blush on her cheeks.

She just misses her friend.

"We should get going," Lydia says, a knowing smile on her lips. "I'll call you tomorrow," she tells Allison and Scott, reaching out for Stiles and Ariel's hands.

"And again, we're so sorry. We owe you one. Really," Stiles offers, squeezing Lydia's hand, "if it hadn't been for you guys…"

Scott and Allison hide a smile from the little redhead, knowing far well that if it hadn't been for them, Stiles and Lydia would have never had their wedding night.

Or well, morning…

"We know," Allison chuckles. "We'll make sure it isn't forgotten."

Lydia kisses her best friend's cheek and hugs Scott, Stiles following close behind trailed by Ariel, who's tickled and kissed on top of her head before all three head out the door.

Scott picks up his daughter and lets her nuzzle against the crook of his neck, her tired eyes weighing at the late hour.

"Why don't you go get changed while I prepare them for bed?" Scott suggests, sighing at the turn of events. They sure weren't counting on this night ending like this.

Allison pecks his lips briefly and kisses her daughter's temple. "Alright," she agrees rather regrettably, making her way to her bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

When she meets her family again, both Eric and Claudia are in their sleepwear and tucked into Eric's bed, just waiting for her mother to meet them so that the situation can be sorted out.

Allison sits on the bed beside her daughter while Scott sits by Eric, who is still frowning and noticeably upset. Claudia, for her part, is mostly dozing off.

"So, Eric, do you want to tell us why you're so upset today?" Allison starts after sharing a glance with Scott.

"I told you. You didn't invite me to your wedding," the boy replies nonchalantly, a defiant tone in his voice as he crosses his arms defensively again, staring right ahead.

"And do you know why?" The boy shakes his head, not meeting his father's eyes. "Well, then maybe you should ask us, don't you think?"

He looks up at Scott then as if wondering if he's allowed to do that, fidgeting on his lap nervously before he finally decides to tug at his father's sleeve. "Why didn't you invite me to go to your wedding, daddy?," Eric murmurs lowly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You know," Scott answers, slowly running a hand through the boy's hair, "what happened to Ariel wasn't what usually happens with most families," he tries to explain. "Usually, when a couple likes each other very much, they get to know each other first. And if that goes well, then they start dating. And after a while, if things are going really, really well, then they marry. And to get married is a very big decision, Eric. If the couple wants to marry, then they have to think about a lot of things, like where they are going to live or make sure that their jobs give them enough money to make a living together, for example. And they have to talk about having babies. Some couples want to have children, others don't.

"And if the couple loves each other very, very much and they do decide that they want to have a baby one day," he continues, "then that usually comes _after_ they are already married. By then, the couple already has a house where the baby can grow up in, and the couple earns enough money to make sure that they can take care of the baby properly. They have a plan set that revolves around the baby's education and future. They have thought about the baby's health and all these other important things that come with the responsibility of being a parent. And that's what happened to us."

Allison gives the boy a moment to absorb the information before carrying on. "Exactly. The thing is that sometimes it doesn't work that way, and a lot of things can go differently than that. Like maybe that order is all mixed up and couples have babies before getting married. Sometimes they don't even get married at all. Sometimes the couple doesn't love each other as much as they thought they did or maybe the house they're in isn't big enough for someone else to live with them, even if it's a baby. Sometimes parents just don't have enough money or time to have a baby, even though they really want to. And sometimes parents just can't have babies for all sorts of reasons.

"What I'm trying to say is that for us, your father and I, it turned out to follow that order. With Ariel and Aunt Lydia, it wasn't like that at first. You know that Ariel's father isn't around, we've told you that."

They had, around the time the first Christmas that the Martin family spent with them came around. The boy had been curious and asked Ariel why her father wasn't there and the girl had replied that he just wasn't, but that it was okay.

Only when they're teenagers will Eric find out that, by then, Ariel was already seeing Stiles as a father to her, and that his uncle had had to break it down to the little girl that unfortunately he wasn't. Those were some hard few days for them and Lydia.

But that's when he'll be a teenager. Right now, Eric doesn't know much of anything about the girl's past. " _Why_ isn't he around? Doesn't he love her?"

Allison sighs and looks exasperatedly at Scott, who proceeds to explain. "It's more complicated than that, Eric. When Ariel is old enough, Aunt Lydia will tell her everything she needs to know about her father, and maybe one day Ariel will tell you all about it too."

And she will, when they're teenagers.

A lot will happen between them, then.

"So, you see," Allison continues, "Aunt Lydia had to take care of Ariel all by herself. So when Uncle Stiles met Aunt Lydia, Ariel was already born. But you know that," she says pointedly. Eric and Ariel met each other just when Stiles and Lydia did, after all. "So when Uncle Stiles decided to marry Aunt Lydia, of course Ariel would have to go to their wedding because she was born by then. Ariel was right and, like she said, both Uncle Stiles and Aunt Lydia love her very much. And of course she went to their wedding, she was already-"

"Born," the boy finishes, understanding. "But-"

"But that doesn't mean we love you any less than they love Ariel, alright? Your father and I just happened to have met before we even decided we wanted to have you. We met, we dated, we moved in together and we got married. And only after that did we think about having you. Do you understand that?"

The boy takes a moment to ponder, nodding afterwards.

"For us, it was different from them," Scott tells him in a murmur. "And it's different for every family, Eric. Only after I married your mom did we decide to have you, so you couldn't have gone to the wedding because you weren't born yet, just like Claudia." The boy looks down sadly at his hands so Scott hugs him sideways, throwing an arm over the boy's shoulders and pulling him closer. "Take me, for example. I'm like Ariel. When your grandma married my father, I didn't get to go to their wedding either because, just like you, I wasn't born yet. But I did get to go to grandma's wedding to your grandpa John because I was already born then, just like Uncle Stiles. Do you see what we're trying to say?"

The boy swallows hard and nods slowly again, understanding even though he feels bad about it. "Ariel said that Aunt Lydia and Uncle Stiles love her very much, and that that was why she was invited to their wedding. I thought you didn't love me," Eric whispers, a stray tear escaping.

Allison glances at Claudia, who's fast asleep nuzzling against her mother's body. Allison kisses her forehead before carefully leaning over the girl to wipe the boy's tears. "Hey, we love you, both of you," she enunciates slowly, looking between her son and her daughter fondly. "We love you more than anything."

"I know," he mumbles, sitting up a little more and resting his head against Scott's chest comfortingly.

Scott shares a glance with his wife, who purses her lips in a suppressed smile. When he mouths to her _Ariel_ , she nods and gives in to a full smirk. "Hey, buddy? Can it be that maybe you weren't just upset about that, but maybe you were upset with Ariel too?"

"No!" The boy blurts out immediately, his quiet crying stopping to give way to frowning instead.

"Well, I think you are," Allison says. "Not only have you two not been the best of friends lately, but now this. It's not her fault, you know?"

" _We_ _'re not_ friends," he replies. " _She_ _'s a girl._ "

"So what? You were friends before," Scott states matter-of-factly, shrugging. "Me and your mother are friends too and I'm a boy and she's a girl."

"But that's different," the boy exclaims stubbornly. "You're grown-ups."

"So? You and Ariel were friends before, when you met," Allison says bluntly. "What changed?"

Eric drags each word. "I don't know…"

"Well, I think you do."

There's a moment of silence as both adults wait for their son to express what he's feeling. A whole minute passes before the boy can bring himself to say anything. "Ariel has new friends."

The girl, having always had little contact with other children until she moved with Lydia to Beacon Hills, had made new friends both in the family and now in school, which made for less time with Eric when before most of her time was spent with him.

"And so do you, Eric."

"She never plays with me anymore…" He lets out with a tired sigh, finally getting sleepy. "Her new friends are always saying that I'm a boy and that we can't play together."

"And let me guess, _your_ friends say that she's a girl and you can't play with her either?," Allison asks and the boy nods sadly once more, his heart a little bit broken because his friend has all this new attention and he misses her. "You like Ariel, don't you?"

His cheeks turn a dark pink almost instantly. " _No!_ "

Allison lets out a chuckle and glances at Scott. "It's okay if you do," he tells his son. "It's perfectly natural to have feelings for other people, Eric, be it boys or girls-"

He just shakes his head. "I don't like boys. Or girls. Not _like that,_ " he replies rather unamused, knowing what his parents are implying.

"Well, it won't always be that way. And you and Ariel were pretty good friends. It doesn't matter what others say, Eric. What matters is that you should always keep your friends close, always."

"Exactly," Allison tries to wrap up. "And you know what? Tomorrow we'll all hang out together and you and Ariel can make up and have some time just the two of you. And if you still wanna be friends after that, at school or wherever it is, it doesn't matter that she's a girl and that you're a boy. What matters is that you like Ariel and want to keep being her friend, and that she likes you and wants to keep being friends too."

"Really?" The boy questions, a hint of hope on his pretty brown eyes. "I miss her a lot," he confesses.

"Really," Scott assures. "So why don't you sleep on it and think about what you're gonna say to her tomorrow? It's getting late, and the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you'll wake up and see Ariel again."

It's all the encouragement the boy needs, his first crush making his little heart beat just a tiny bit faster as he starts wondering what he can do with his friend tomorrow. "Okay."

"And be nice," Allison adds. "I don't want you two being mean to each other again."

"Okay, mommy," the boy swears solemnly. "I promise."

It's a good run, an Allison from the future will think, that her boy managed to keep that promise for almost ten years. He and Ariel are fifteen when they have their first real fight, one that keeps them apart for months, and it isn't until the girl's father really comes back into the picture that they make amends. Granted, it's not the first time her father makes an appearance in their lives, but it's enough for Eric to be by her side as if nothing had happened between him and Ariel in the months prior, and that will change everything between them.

"And you know what?" The boy looks between Allison and Scott expectantly. "Your father and I will think of something to make you feel better about you and your sister not having been there for our wedding, alright? We'll make it a surprise," she singsongs with a kind smile, leaning over again and kissing her son's forehead when he nods.

Scott smiles too and tousles the boy's hair. "Sweet dreams, Eric."

After wishing his parents goodnight, the boy settles comfortably and Scott tucks him in while Allison picks up Claudia as carefully as she can as to not wake the little girl, leaving Claudia in her room and only after that finally meeting Scott in the hallway.

They both sigh in relief and hold hands as they make their way back to their bedroom, alone at last. Silently closing the door behind him, Scott stops and stares at the love of his life, still in the middle of the room looking right back at him with slightly apprehensive features.

"We've got great kids, uh?," Scott comments, pulling Allison closer.

She complies in an instant, hugging Scott by the waist. "Yeah. We did good," she mumbles against his chest, her voice coming out muffled. Looking up, she rests her chin against him, eyes doubtful. "Do you still think we should try for baby number three?"

Scott pretends to think about it but his lips betray his true will, tilting up almost immediately. He wraps his arms around her shoulders. "Hmm, lets see. Maybe we should think about it the way we just told Eric. If you do end up pregnant again, we'll actually have to explain it to him this time and god, the birds and the bees talk is gonna be another challenge."

Allison grins and nods lively. "Alright. Agreed."

"I still have to take a shower though," Scott murmurs, resting his forehead against hers. "Care to join me?," he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Allison muffles a chuckle. "Come on," she answers, leading the way to their en-suite bathroom.

She chooses to just keep him company instead, brushing her teeth and removing the little make-up she had on while Scott quickly undresses and hops in the shower.

The water is already running when he speaks again. "Okay, so…" he starts. "We've done all the getting-to-know-each other thing."

Allison smiles softly, her mind wandering to when they first met. "Check."

"We've dated, moved in together, got married and moved somewhere else when we really discussed having kids," he mumbles, washing his hair.

"Check, check, check _and_ check!"

"We had baby number one, which proved to be challenging at first. After that, came baby number two. Albeit parenthood being a bit more familiar to us by now, baby number two has given us a few more headaches if we are to discuss development, which we should definitely equate into this decision."

Allison's smile fades a little when she nods to her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Little Claudia's development seems to be somewhat delayed when compared to Eric's, and even though the doctor has told them that she still has time to learn the things she hasn't yet, the girl having had a few - frankly scary - health issues in her almost two years of life that they have never had with their son is starting to nag at both Scott and Allison, especially lately, concerned that it might be something more.

"Well, one can never know what to expect when they're expecting," she replies, meaning every word. "And that should never stop one from trying."

A moment of silence stretches between them as they both think about their options, and they don't speak again until Scott's all done and hops out of the shower. Allison nears him, taking the towel from his hands when he's finished drying himself to place it on the sink and handing him his boxers and pajama, leaning against one of the walls while Scott quickly dresses himself and brushes his teeth under her contemplative gaze.

"There will be just as much love as there would be if there was to be a child who had no problems at all," she says calmly, still thoughtful.

Scott looks up at her reflection in the mirror, finishing up. "Of course there would be," he tells her, turning around to face her. "But maybe what happened tonight was a good thing. Maybe we need to think this through some more."

Scott had been reluctant when Allison first shared her intentions of having another child, then truly excited with everything that was happening around them. Now truth is, maybe his first instinct was right. Maybe Allison had gotten a little carried away with all the baby talk in the family lately, and maybe he got carried away right along with her.

"I know," she sighs, and Scott doesn't waste a second to cross the bathroom and hold her hands, squeezing them comfortingly.

He leads the way back to their bedroom, to the bed where by now, if everything had gone accordingly to their plans for the evening, they would have probably already tried for baby number three. And likely more than once at that.

They get under the covers and Scott turns off the lamp on his bedside, turning to face Allison to stare at her features only illuminated by the moonlight. "What are you thinking?" He whispers, looking for her hand to hold absentmindedly.

Allison closes her eyes for a moment, trying to rearrange her thoughts, trying to find the words to explain what she wants to say, how she feels. "I'm thinking that maybe we're both right." She moves closer and Scott adjusts on the mattress so that Allison can rest her head on his chest, one arm pulling her closer as she entwines their fingers together. "Maybe we should take everything that's happening right now into consideration before we make a decision, but I can't shake this…" She purses her lips and wets them out of reflex as she struggles to let out the words. Scott tucks her hair behind her ear and kisses the tip of her nose softly, encouraging her to continue. Allison sighs and gives in to a smile. "I still want to have another child."

Scott grins, stupidly in love with his wife. "I know," he assures her. "And I… I think I want it too. The fact that every time someone in the family tells the others that they're having a child, my mind always wanders to having another baby with you, it just does. Hell, that's how we had Claudia!" It's how it happened, right after his mother and Stiles' father told them that they had decided to adopt little Emma. "But I don't want that to cloud our judgment. I'll always want to have more children with you," he says, "but we should do it on our own terms."

"I get it," she murmurs, releasing his grasp to lightly brush her fingers up and down his chest. "Maybe we should just focus on what we have on our hands right now. Eric just started Elementary school and we're gonna need to be here for him more now." Both she and Scott had been spending more time out of the house lately, so he knows what she's trying to say. "I want us to be more present for him. To help him with his homework and to see him learn new things. I want to know that _we_ know what's happening in his life; that he's making friends, that he knows we're here for him. God, I want him to make amends with Ariel and for him to spend more time with his sister too.

"I also want us to be here for Claudia. I…" She pauses, catching her breath. "We need to help her, encourage her to develop her skills more and I know that it's been hard lately. Between me taking some night classes to finally get my degree and you working so much at the shop…"

"Actually," he stops her, telling her the news. "We finally decided to hire the new crew, so I'm back to my normal daily schedule in about a week or so." Allison looks incredulous at that until Scott nods in confirmation. "I'm serious. Stiles and I discussed it with dad and we'll take alternate shifts for like a month to see if it works out for us, which means that I'll be home more. You still have your classes but we'll figure something out, you'll see. What matters is that we're here for the kids."

Allison can't believe her luck and beams, kissing Scott's knuckles and he can see a faint blush on her cheeks despite the low light. "I'm really happy to know that. That not only we'll have a little more time for the kids, but for us as well." She lets go of his hand to cup his cheek and move even closer, her lips brushing his enticingly. "I miss you."

Scott pecks her lips, then her forehead, and she swears she can see his eyes glimmering through the darkness. "I miss you too."

There's a moment of comfortable silence as they think about everything some more, equating all available variables to come out with the best solution for the situation at hand. "I have a proposition," Allison mumbles against his neck, where she starts planting feather-like kisses.

Scott sighs softly. "Do tell."

"We leave it to fate," she states simply.

Scott distances himself from her a bit, looking down at his wife with a raised brow. "We leave it to fate?"

Allison nods, propping herself up on one arm to face him better. "Yes, having another child. We leave it to fate, and if we're meant to have another child we will, in due time. For now, we focus on the present."

"We leave it to fate…" he repeats, testing the words out on his tongue as if wondering if they're the answers to their situation.

She only gives Scott one more second before straddling him slowly, cupping his cheeks and leaning down so that they're eye to eye. "It doesn't mean it's not in my plans for the very, very near future because it is, but right now we might just have a little too many things on our hands. So lets make sure we're ready for it first. Or well, as ready as one can ever be."

His hands roam up her thighs until they stop low at her waist, his thumbs slipping underneath her shirt to caress the skin there. "And in the nearest future?" He asks teasingly.

"We focus on ourselves. You focus on your job and I'll focus on my job and my classes. We'll make more time for the kids and we can't forget about ourselves either. It's been a while," she whispers with a mischievous smile, grinding her hips just a little bit. "It's been a _while_ …"

Scott purses his lips in amusement. "I know."

"We can finally start renovating the attic to get some more room," she continues, "make sure we have some savings in place. And when the time is right, it'll happen."

"Okay, so… _Very, very near_ future and _nearest_ future are decided." Allison leans closer to kiss him fully on the lips, her smile completely ruining it and Scott following suit, her lips brushing along his jaw after to softly nibble at his ear with her teeth. Scott closes his eyes and lets out a breath, his grip on her waist tightening. "What about _right now_?"

"Right now…" Her breath ghosts teasingly close to his skin, and suddenly the December night doesn't seem as cold anymore. "Now I'll be damned if we're not gonna finally have sex," she teases, a blush taking over her cheeks. "And tomorrow, we can have sex again in the morning for good measure." Scott chuckles. "And after breakfast, we'll just spend all day with the kids. Maybe we can discuss with Eric what we can do about our wedding. I was thinking we could show him our wedding album again or even the video, ask him if he's curious about anything-"

Scott interrupts her with a bright smile on his lips. "That is a dangerous question to ask a six year old."

Allison laughs lowly, conceding. "I meant about the ceremony and only that, but you're right. It doesn't matter anyway, those are questions for tomorrow," she mutters, sitting up on top of him again. "We'll think of something."

"So let me get this straight. Sex. More sex. Quality time with the kids. Wedding talk. Crush talk, since Stiles and Lydia are probably gonna stop by with Ariel. Sex again…"

"I don't remember saying we'll have sex tomorrow _night_ ," Allison quips, already unbuttoning his pajama shirt.

"Just because we're not having baby number three right now, doesn't mean we can't have some quality time ourselves anytime we can, now that we'll have some more free time."

"Fair point," she agrees easily. He had her at _sex again_ anyway.

Scott sits up to help her get rid of his shirt, which ends up absently thrown to the floor somewhere to his right. "So that's for the weekend. After, more of that whenever we can. We find a balance between more time with the kids and more focusing on our careers. We make sure we make all the arrangements we can for another baby, and then we'll see. Is that it?"

She nods in confirmation, her shirt following his in a second. "And we leave it to fate," she says simply, eyes shining in the moonlight just waiting for his approval.

"I can live with that," he murmurs sincerely, his fingers tilting her chin down enough for their foreheads to touch.

Allison bites down on her lower lip hard enough that she thinks it'll draw blood. "I could kiss you right now," she repeats his exclamation from before, her heart stammering in her chest.

It's but a mere whisper, but Scott hears it loud and clear, a grin forming on his lips. "I can live with that too," he murmurs before finally giving in to what they should have done as soon as he got home, and if they end up going for round two before falling asleep they blame it on fate as well.

xxxxxxxxxx

Their plan works.

They find the balance they had lost sight of for a while and things work out exactly like they're supposed to.

They wait for Christmas to surprise all the kids in the family - especially since the other children found out about Eric's fit and, understandably, started asking questions to their parents too - gathering everyone together at John and Melissa's to spend the afternoon of the 24th watching all their wedding videos, much to everyone's delight. Wedding albums are passed from hand to hand and the kids have a blast realizing how different and younger, yet familiar, their parents and uncles were then and how things have changed ever since, while the adults revisit the memories of one of the most important days of their lives.

By dinner, all parents have promised to celebrate their marriage's yearly anniversary with the kids when the time comes so that their children can be more involved this time around, which turns out to be one of the best ideas they've ever come up with, bringing both generations closer together. It becomes another one of their group traditions.

As for Scott and Allison, their marriage becomes even stronger over the next few months. They become closer and both work hard on what they had planned, just waiting for the inevitability that fate will hopefully present them with. Their son does well in school and is best friends with his crush again. Their daughter, as it turns out, was just a late bloomer and the extra time with her parents definitely helped with her development.

Their jobs are going great and Allison's classes are almost done when it happens, so in truth it doesn't take them all that long to have their wish come true.

She's pregnant by the time Lydia's baby shower comes around.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **Author's note:** If you already knew "Know better", I wanna know what you guys think about this flashforward!

If you didn't, let me know if you liked the fic and tell me, if there was any, what were your favorite parts.

Also, it wasn't exactly easy to write that speech in a way that a six year old would understand, so let me know what you thought about it.

Regardless, feedback is much appreciated and I hope I did Scallison justice :)


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